#boy wait until love comes and sucker punches him in the face!

[redpensandgreenarrows]

Immediate thoughts after finishing Bridgerton S3 Part 2 (as a benophile)...

While Benedict's arc with Tilly surprised me (more on that in a later post), I did not dislike it - which I was scared I would even if it gave me emo Ben. However, all I can think right now:

Is our boy seems to be in search of a anchor himself...

(gif credit to @captainbucky-yt)

[itaintgojover]

COMPATIBILITY TEST

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ feat. !Frat Boy! Gojo fucks you outside at his party. douchey gojo asks to see how compatible you guys are after you tell him you cant stand him. i wonder what he means...

-`♡´cw: 18+!!!! unprotected sex (be safe guys lol), creampie, oral m and f receiving, fingering, dirty talk, orgasm denial, mention of threesome, voyeurism ??, panty thief, drug usage

-`♡´word count: 3.8k

ps. i did not proofread this

The hot, bright beams slowly clouded your vision with dark green spots. The scent of sweat and pheromones filled the air while you and some stranger attempted to dance, but too far gone to worry if anyone was watching. It was simple: Night after night,  the douchiest of the frat guys would hit you up and practically beg for you to show up at their “rager”. If it weren't for your friend constantly begging, you would spend most of your nights probably scrolling through your phone. This night didn't feel particularly different, not until you saw him.

Earlier 

“Y/N pleaseeeeeeeeeeee, this is my one chance to get laid�� Your friend cried out almost in tears. 

“Shoko, come on. You said that every other night, we just finished with midterms. I'm fucking tired.” You groaned, exhausted from the weeks of studying.

“Hey, maybe you’ll find someone too. You haven't been with anyone else since Nanami. What even happened between you two, he was literally the perfect man”

The long dreaded question finally popped up. Your ex boyfriend- if you could even call him that- and you had split. He was indeed the “perfect man”. Nanami would always make sure that you were taken care of, always there for you on those late nights when you felt you had no one else. Ideally, you would have liked to end up with him, but unfortunately the stars didn't align for you two. You know he loved you, and you definitely loved him, but you weren’t the one for him, nor he the one for you.

The two of you had realized it early on in your relationship, yet decided to continue whatever you had. It was mutually beneficial, you both got to fill the void of a loved one without being exclusive. It wasn't until recently when you had felt the need to let him go, he felt like a safety net. You weren't ready to completely open yourself up to anyone, but you still wanted the comfort and understanding he provided. It felt like the right thing to do. He told you that he’d always be around if you needed him, and with that you were content. 

“Listen, it's complicated. But me and him are on good terms, happy?” 

“Somewhat, but I'm worried about you babe. I'm not saying you need someone to be happy, but you don't even seem open to the idea. I think it would be good for you to meet someone tonight. Just promise me that you’ll try, okay?”

The look in Shoko’s eyes seemed to be of genuine concern. You begrudgingly nodded your head in affirmation, although doubtful that such a thing would occur. 

You hastily got ready, and you and Shoko arrived at the house. Couples on the lawn shamelessly displaying heinous acts. A myriad of trash thrown around, waiting for the poor sucker the next morning to pick it up. Upon entering it didn't get any better, the same as every other party you’d been to recently. 

“Hey, Y/N!!!” 

A voice suddenly calls your name and you whip your head around to see your friend Itadori along with your other friends Megumi and Nobara. They come over to embrace you and share pleasantries after not seeing each other for a while. 

“Sooooooo, I heard through the grapevine that Y/N’s on the market now. Megs, I think it's finally your chance”

An obviously wasted Nobara says while elbowing Megumi in the ribs and receiving a playful punch back. 

“Hahaha, yeah but don't worry, me and him are good. I think i’m gonna get a drink though I’ll be back soon”

You escape the conversation as soon as you can, the only way you would survive tonight was to get shit faced as fast as you could. 

Hours go by, and instead of you being absolutely wasted, you’re watching Shoko play beer pong with random people who won't stop laughing. Shoko had-to your terror-informed you that your DD for the night bailed. She didn't outright ask you to be mom for the night, but her passive aggressive whines would say otherwise. Being surrounded by intoxicated people while sober was not how you were expecting the night to turn out. You leave shoko alone for a bit, attempting to go and find a restroom after all the soda you had. You wander upstairs passing at least three couples making out, and start rattling each door handle hoping to find a restroom. Most of them were locked or had a tie around the knob signaling that whoever was behind that door, was getting busy. At last though, one of the doors finally opened and instead of seeing the restroom you see a women straddling a man.

You stand there in shock for a moment. The man had his hand gripped onto the woman's ass, tenderly kneading the flesh beneath her skirt, while sucking on her tit ravenously. The two continued to grind onto each other seemingly not aware of your presence. The man’s gaze slowly turns to you and your breath hitches. Blue was all you saw. As bright as a summer day yet he seemed so far away. Almost as if there wasn't currently a women he was ravishing, all his attention was on you. His eyes remain on you while the women in his lap squeals and shoves her fingers into his snow, white hair seeking something to grip for stability.

The sight immobilized you, you knew you should have walked away as soon as you saw them, but something held you back. Your body subconsciously takes a step back creating a loud squeak from the floor to echo through the room. The woman all of a sudden yelps in surprise and covers her chest yelling an angry “get out” at you. 

You rush out of the room feeling your face heat up at the sight you just witnessed. Something about the way his long, slender hands slid up her ass sent shivers through you. It was quiet a foreign feeling, you never would have thought you would feel envy especially over him. 

Gojo Satoru. The well known president of the most famous fraternity on campus, Alpha Beta Kai. He was at the top of everyone’s “people to bang at least once” list. There was not a single girl or guy on campus that didn't want to be involved with him in some way. Stories about him reached far and wide, which is why you (who tried your best not to involve yourself with drama) even knew about him. Last 4th of July, the guy has supposedly fucked every girl apart of the sorority next door, Kappa Deltha Phi. Along with the rumors that he was part horse. There were many eye witnesses that came forward, sobbing saying they’d never find a man like him again. To you, Gojo Satoru was a mess who you didn’t wanna associate with. You knew you had mutual friends like Shoko and Nanami, who swore he was a nice guy deep down, but beyond that, you didn't hope for anything more. 

Instead of dwelling on it too much, you go back to find Shoko. She's giggling over some dumb joke when she notices that you’re there and runs over.

“Heyyyyyy, Y/N.  I missed you sexy, come dance with me”

She hiccups after that last words, and starts dragging you over to the dance floor where house music was playing. You don't even protest, too overwhelmed from what happened just trying to distract yourself. Shoko starts grinding up on you and you give in and do it back desperate to have some fun. The sweat and scent of cheap perfume suffocates you and holds a vague sense of nostalgia. No matter how many times you tell yourself that you’re done with these shitty parties you always come back. Sure, you could blame it on Shoko, but you could easily tell her no. honestly, it didnt make sense to you, but deep down you knew this cycle would keep continuing. All of a sudden, Shoko doubles over and starts gagging. Great, your night just keeps getting better. You place her arm over her shoulder and guide her upstairs to the bathroom (which you now know the location of). You do your best to look away while holding her hair back and assuring her that it’s okay. A ray of orange graces your eyes all of a sudden, and you swear that you cry a little.

“Oh my gosh, Y/N is Shoko okay??? Here, I got it from here. I can tell you’ve gone through a lot tonight.”

“Awww, Nobara i’m going to kiss you. You’re literally my angel, I’ll be back in a little i'm just gonna clear my head. It's been a weird night…”

Getting a sincere nod from Nobara, you walk outside to the backyard, where surprisingly not a soul in sight. You head over to a far couch and sit down for a bit. Maybe you would go inside in a bit, talk up some cute guy then head home. Hell, maybe you could even call Nanami, you know he would answer and rush over in a heartbeat if you even mentioned being lonely. It was tempting, the night would end on a good note and you’d have him to comfort you. The idea didn't seem too bad and you let out a little chuckle. 

“What's so funny, voyeur?”

Holy shit. You turn to the voice to see Satoru walking towards you. When did he get here? Last time you saw him, he was almost balls deep in some blonde chick. Now you had to deal with the embarrassment of walking in on them.

“Nothing, just thinking. I’m sorry about earlier, hope you know I’m not a peeping tom or anything like that”

“I mean, if you asked nicely you could have joined. Haven't had a threesome in a while.”

Your eyes widen, surprised he would even insinuate that. Offended couldn't even explain how you felt, does this asshole really think you’d fuck him? He was delusional. Whatever feelings of envy or jealousy you had earlier were long gone, and you were prepared to get up and leave until he came to sit by you. the proximity between you was too close for your liking. You could see him. Not in the way you did before, every minor thing you wouldn't have noticed before was magnified. His perfectly, straight teeth and soft, smooth lips smirking at you. His soft, voluminous hair perfectly being pushed by the wind. His muscular arms being hugged in all the right places by the shirt he was wearing. His eyes. Seeing them up close was another experience entirely. It was almost as if you would drop to your knees right then and there. They gleamed with radiance and temptation, drawing you in the more you stared back at him. Hadn’t you known anything about him, you would have let desire overcome you.

“No thank you, you’re not really my type, plus I can't really stand you.”

Lies. You’re flat out lying, partially. It was true that you couldn't stand this guy, but he was gorgeous. But you couldn't give in and feed his fat ego even more. 

“ouch, you're harsh. I heard from a birdie though that you and Nanami broke up, and plus the look in your eyes earlier said otherwise. I could see the way you rubbed your legs together, it's okay to admit you were wet”

He places a hand on your leg, seemingly challenging you. He starts to rub circles with his thumb on your inner thigh while continuing to talk into your ear. It didn't surprise you that he knew about Nanami, they were close enough to each other for him to have mentioned it.  

“I would really enjoy myself with a pretty girl like you. I know you don't like me, but that's okay. Doesn't mean we aren't compatible in other ways.”

His hand trails up even higher, climbing further and further towards your drenched cunt. You wished desperately that his words didn't have any affect on you, but they did. There was a war happening in your mind. Did you really wanna fuck this guy and give him something to boast about? The sensible part of your brain was screaming at you to leave and leave him but hurt, but when he was this close to you and saying all the right things, how could you refuse?

“Prove me wrong then.”

As soon as the words come out of your mouth, he gives you a boyish grin and extends out to litter nibbles up and down your neck. Obviously intending to leave marks, but you couldn't even bring yourself to care in that moment. Satoru brings his hand up to your panties and starts to slowly palm you. The sensation against your clit makes you release a low sigh of pleasure. You could feel yourself becoming wetter the more time went by between you- if that was even possible. Sensing your neediness and urge for more, Satoru chuckles and lays you flat against the couch. The fabric from your skirt slowly slides down your legs and then he quickly discards it, leaving you completely vulnerable. A burst of panic runs through you, you exposed outside. Anyone could come outside and see you in this compromised position. 

“Don't worry your pretty little head, those fuckers are so shit faced I doubt they’ll come out here”

It eased your worries a little to hear him say that, but you were still on edge. You were taken out of your thoughts though when he bites onto the fabric of your panties above your hip bone, and takes them off with his porcelain teeth. He was taking his time playing with you, and you were unsure of whether to simply enjoy it or punch him in the face. Satoru brings his face close to your pussy, he blows a breath of air right at your clit making you tense up. He laughs at your response then places a tender kiss on your fold. Following it along with licking a stripe on the other, touching everywhere but where you wanted him. 

“Satoru, please I need it”

A vulgar whine comes out of your lips in frustration. He smiles at you before giving into your requests and lapping at the sweet juice your pussy had been collecting for him. As soon as he got a taste, he felt like he would cream his pants right then and there. Your whines had gone straight to his dick and he wasn’t sure he’d felt anything like this. He brings up a finger to your wet little entrance and slowly sinks in his long, slender finger earning a moan from you. The more he slides in the more you see stars cloud your vision. You felt the need to close your eyes. Just looking at him made you feel like you would come from the sight alone. His eyes were playful and he would occasionally let out a moan while eating your pussy knowing the vibrations made you spasm each time. The wet squelching becomes louder the faster he pumps his finger while sucking on your clit. The combination of the two makes you wrap your legs around his head while panting and begging for more.

He pulls away sensing your impending orgasm and sits down with his leg spread, his bulge on display. You eagerly get up and crawl over in between his legs. Not wanting to waste any time, you slide the band of his sweatpants down along with his boxers, and your mouth salivates. It brings you back to the rumors about this man being part horse, you had never seen anything remotely as perfect. A large vein running down the side, paired with an angry red bulging tip that was leaking with precum. You slowly bring your tongue to his tip and lick up all the precum that emerged. Parting your lips, you spit all over his cock and bring your hand up to slowly jerk him. His breath starts to become unsteady the more your hand grips his shaft and sends chills through him. You gag a little the more you try to fit him into your mouth, you reach out to his hand and guide it to the top of your head. Satoru blinks a bit in astonishment but takes the hint right away and grips your head leisurely guiding your head up and down his cock. You feel him throb in your mouth the quicker he shoves you down onto him. The more he pushed you down the more you felt the urge to choke all over him, and the more saliva you produced. You could feel it dripping down all over your chin onto him, making lewd noises as you bobbed up and down.

"ohhhhhh fuck, Y/N. holy shittttt, just like that. such a good girl, sucking my cock nice and good."

hearing his whiny groans send a wave of realization over you. you were sucking the gojo satoru's dick. and he was fucking loving it. never in a million years did you think you'd let him see you in such a vulnerable state.

He pulls you off to your shock and bends you over the side of the couch. Realizing what he was gonna do, you arch your back and lean back to tease him.

"woah, patience now gorgeous. you want my big cock that bad?"

Satoru teases, slightly chuckling while admiring the view you give him and landing a light slap to your ass.

"mmm, need it so bad. please 'toru."

Egged on by your little nickname for him, he jerks himself a little before aligning his cock with your plush folds. He slides his tip up and down your entrance preparing you for what's to come before inserting himself little by little. The two of you release a groan of pleasure at the feeling of him sinking into you. As he bottoms out, he pulls out a tad then pushes right back. he continues this process, gradually increasing the speed. the more and more he pumped into you, you could hear the wet noises from him fucking you. it was driving you crazy, you never knew you could be so wet. you start pushing back against him, desperate for even more. he takes the hint and props up leg up to fuck you even deeper. you squeal from the pleasure coursing through your body. it felt too good to even think, you lay against the couch letting satoru take control over you.

A sudden loud creak brings you back to your senses.

"Yooooooo, dude did you see that hot ass chic playing beer pong. ughh, i needa tap that for sure tonight"

"hahaha, you wish. by the way, you seen satoru? That guy is usually always around during parties."

"hey, now that you mention it, you're right! Maybe hes fucking some girl upstairs or something?"

Two boys had come outside, and started laughing and talking loudly. They were close enough to hear, but it would take them walking around the corner to see you two. Terrified at the sudden possibility of getting caught, all the color drains from your face. This is it. These drunkard are gonna see you then go blab to everyone proudly about how satoru has "secured another body". Your immediate thought is that Satoru is gonna pull out and have you guys get dressed, but your eyes widen when he keeps going, if not faster.

He then pulls you up against his back and puts his hand against your mouth tightly. The grip he had on you was intense, one hand keeping your mouth shut while the other crept up to hold your waist against him. You can feel his hot breath against your ear, as he mutters

"Gotta keep you quiet, Princess. Wouldn't want them to see you acting like a slut, would we now?"

you nod your head in agreement, praying that they wouldn't hear you. the only noises heard outside were the loud conversation from the two boys and the obscene noises coming from Satoru rutting into you. It was a miracle they didn't notice.

Satoru picks up the pace, not being able to endure your tight pussy any longer. The feeling of your bare cunt dripping all over his cock sent him spiraling. He'd be silly to think he could last any longer. He brings his arm around your waist down to rub tight circles on your clit, stifling a moan when he feels you clenching hard around him. You cant take it anymore, muffling into his hand and squeezing your eyes shut when you come all over his cock. Feeling your orgasm, Satoru suddenly halted when he feels his balls empty everything they have into you. After a moment, he pulls out of you seeing as his come slowly starts to dribble out of your pretty hole. It burned into his mind, making him almost want to initiate another round.

You both begin to dress yourselves, and when you stand up to put your skirt on, you feel his warm come leaking out of you down your thighs. It makes you start to look for your panties but then you see him putting them in his pocket. He looks over at you and realizes that you've caught him and flashes you a toothy grin.

"Sorry sweets, gotta keep a souvenir."

You feel your face heat up in mortification. The idea of him keeping your panties would have overjoyed you, had you not imagined him doing that with every girl he's hooked up. you mutter a quiet "whatever" and sit back down on the couch refusing to look at him. In the end, you got involved with Satoru and as much as you hated to admit it, you really like it. You felt the couch dip right next to you and you realize that he came to sit next to you.

"hey."

you turn your head towards him, and he raises his hand up to your cheek to softly caress it. then lifts his head to place a swift kiss against your forehead.

"that was a lot of fun, lets do it again, okay?"

With that, he stands up and leaves, turning the corner.

"Oh my gosh! Whats up, Satoru??? Haven't seen you all party dude."

"I know, my bad. I was having a really good time, haha. Lets go back inside, hmm?"

You hear the three go back inside, as you sit there in silence thinking. Not once did he kiss you on the lips while fucking, but he gives you a forehead kiss after? What kind of guy is he, does he always get sweet with every girl after fucking their brains out? So many questions ran through your head, but there was one thing you were sure about.

You wanted to fuck Gojo Satoru again.

[not-magdi]

A Christmas in Monaco

Summary: Visiting a Christmas market with your boy

Words: around 860

Warnings: None, it's pure fluff <3

A/N

Sorry I haven't been able to write about him for so long, the last few weeks were really stressful. But now I have the time to write more again, hurray!!

Hope you enjoy it, love you guys,

Magdi <3

Monaco during the Christmas season was honestly something magical. Christmas decorations hanging from all the expensive shops around the city and fairy lights decorating the streets make it look like the picture from a Christmas card.

Though nothing can compare to the big Christmas market in the centre of the city, the little red and white huts lining up one after another, each one of them offering different kinds of Christmas treats to enjoy.

It looked like the biggest cliché, but that's exactly why you were so excited about it.

You were a sucker for listening to famous Christmas songs blasting from loudspeakers while warming your cold fingers on a hot cup of punch.

You have been talking Lando's ear off since the start of November about going to the market. He found your excitement about Christmas absolutely adorable, the way your whole face would light up when you would start talking about the holidays made his insides feel all warm and fussy.

Now that the season is finally over and you and Lando are both home in Monaco, you are currently dragging Lando out of the house to do, what you've been talking about for weeks.

"Ok, babe slow down, the market is not going to run away." Lando teased you, chuckling as you loosened the grip on his arm.

Gasping, you turn around, "Lando Norris, how dare you, you know how long I've waited for this. You have no right to tease me here."

Laughing even more at your antics, he grabs your hand and pulls it into his pocket to keep you warm.

Hand in hand, the two of you arrive at the market and are greeted by the familiar sound of "Last Christmas" coming from every corner.

Your grip on Lando's hand tightened as you dragged him to the nearest stand to get something to drink.

Now, with two hot mugs warming your hands, the two of you started to explore the area a bit.

"Baby, we still need to get a Christmas present for Max and P, they invited us, I want to give them something."

"Yeah, I know. Do you have any idea what that could be?"

Shaking your head, you started to search through all the different kinds of stands, buying a few things for yourself here and there too.

Lando excused himself for a moment, stating he found a little gift for Max, which was a lie. He found a little silver necklace with a red Christmas ornament on it. Lando wanted to give you the necklace on Christmas Eve, but he knew he would probably give it to you as soon as you were home again.

Meanwhile, you continued to browse a bit, until you stopped as something caught your eye.

You couldn't grab your purse fast enough to buy two little Formula One car ornaments.

Now, with the ornaments in your bag, you made your way to the place where you and Lando agreed to meet again.

You saw Lando already waiting for you, his beanie pulled down to his eyes to protect himself from the cold. But not even that could stop the cold from leaving his nose and cheeks with a rosy blush.

You awed at how cute he looked before making your way over to him. Looking up from his phone, Lando started to smile as he saw you standing before him.

He opened his arms for you to cuddle yourself into his warm embrace.

"Did you find something?" You could hear Lando's muffled voice asking you.

"Yeah wait, I need to show you!" Lando chuckled at your excitement as you hurriedly unpacked what was in your bag.

"Ok ok, close your eyes!"

He did as you told him and held his hand out. You placed the little car into his hand and told him to open his eyes.

Opening his eyes, he looked down, then up into your eyes again with an unreadable expression.

"How dare you."

Raising your eyebrow, you looked at him confused, "What do you mean, how dare I, it's a F1 car!"

"It's a Ferrari!"

"Oh, come on Lando."

"I don't care what you say, this thing is not going on our tree."

Looking him dead in the eyes, you exclaim in a calm voice, "Try me bitch."

The silence between you two, was soon broken as the two of you couldn't keep your little act up anymore.

Laughing and giggling like two teenagers, you made a last round around the market, taking a few photos to post later and meeting a few sweet fans who gave Lando bracelets and asked for a few autographs.

You didn't mind it one bit, always finding it sweet how Lando's eyes sparkled when he interacted with his fans.

With freezing hands, you were back at your apartment, limbs tangled under three thick, fluffy blankets.

Kevin alone at home, was playing in the background as you and Lando giggled and shared stories like you just met. The movie was long forgotten as you two were completely lost in each other.

You couldn't wait to spend Christmas time with him, with your Lando, your soulmate.

[octoberobserver]

Chained by Darkness, Bound by Light - Good Omens Fix-It Fic

**spoilers for s2**

(Read on ao3 here)

“...Crowley?”

He watched as the tall, lithe, achingly-familiar figure froze mid-hover, his large, black wings fluttering slightly.

Aziraphale eagerly traced every inch of him he could see. The back of his head, his fiery wisps of hair, long neck, narrow but strong shoulders, his slender hips that always sashayed distractingly when—

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat, dragging his gaze away from his friend. Former friend. Ex-friend? “W-What are you doing?” he asked, almost wincing at the tremor in his voice.

It had been over a year since they last set eyes on one another. A drop in the ocean to a celestial being, yet somehow, unlike absences from times before, it had felt like an eternity.

“Nothing that concerns you.”

His chest tightened at the coldness in Crowley’s tone. He hadn’t ever heard it directed at him. Not once in six thousand years.

Until now.

But he deserved it.

More now than ever before.

“What are you doing here?”

That coldness seeped like treacle from Crowley, his back still stubbornly turned, his wings arched and angry-looking as they cut through the air like blades.

Aziraphale wrung his hands, staring down at them for something else less tempting to look at. The ghost of Crowley’s lips still haunted his. His mouth again tingling just like it had the seconds after their kis—

“This is where we first met,” he interrupted his own thoughts, unable and unwilling to relive that same precious, agonizing, fragile moment where their lips joined. “I-I rather thought this was where we should…we should…”

��Watch it all end?”

Aziraphale’s stomach churned, nausea permeating within him.

It had all been for nought, you see. Everything he had thought he could accomplish in Heaven, he didn’t. Metatron had misled him. Deceived him. Used him. And the second coming had proven to be the second attempt at Armaggedon. Only this time, he didn’t have a clever young boy and a marvellous demon by his side to stop it.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, tears burning his eyes. “You were right. And I was—I was wrong.”

That got Crowley to turn, if only slightly, the side of his face, where his tattoo still lay, now visible.

Aziraphale swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I-I can do the dance if you like?”

Several beats of absolute silence that only Space allowed followed that, before finally…

“No point now.”

It was like a sucker punch to his soul. Blunt force trauma to his very being.

Heaving a deep breath and glancing at the lovely purple hue circling Crowley’s head like a halo, he summoned all of his courage to ask one last time…

“Why are you here, Crowley?”

He watched as his large black wing mimicked a half-hearted shrug.

“I turned the lights on. It only seemed fitting that I be the one to turn them off again.”

He gave a humourless chuckle.

“‘Let there be darkness.’”

Nothing happened. The universe, with all its vast colours and wonders kept on shining bright around them.

“Well,” he shrugged again. “I’m not gonna do it now, am I? Gotta wait and see how it all plays out.”

With clenched fists, Aziraphale gently flew closer so that he was side by side with his oldest friend in all existence.

Crowley, to his credit, barely acknowledged this move and didn’t budge an inch.

Silence stretched between them.

They watched as stars and protoplanets continued to bake, still in their infancy all these years later.

With a shaky breath, Aziraphale allowed himself to glance to his left as he said the three syllables he had agonised over for months now.

“...Raphael.”

In half a blink, Crowley swooped upon him, his face contorted in anger as their noses brushed, their lips so painfully close and yet not close enough.

“What did you just call me?”

He stared up into those large, beautiful, golden eyes he had gone without for far too long.

“I-It was your name,” he said as calmly as he could, despite his heart threatening to beat out of his chest. “Your original name. Before the fa—”

“You don’t get to call me that,” Crowley spat with more venom than Aziraphale had ever heard in all his six millennia. “Nobody gets to call me that. Ever again.”

Before he could say another (probably damning) word, Crowley surged downwards with furious vigour, hurtling for Earth.

“Crowley, wait!” Aziraphale yelled, scrambling after him, flapping his wings rapidly. “I’m sorry! Please come back! Where are you going?!”

They crashed through the atmosphere like one comet chasing another, landing with thunderous twin bangs onto an unnaturally empty London street directly in front of A.Z. Fell & Co.

His heart leapt at the sight of his beloved bookshop before remembering his first and most important beloved, standing a few feet from him, glaring up at the murky, grey sky.

Seconds of total and utter silence that rivalled the vacuum of space ticked by. No hustle and bustle of city life or nightingales singing anywhere.

Aziraphale bit his lip but couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth if his life depended on it. And, judging by Crowley’s skyward glower, it just might.

“You were one of the first,” he rasped quietly. “A True Archangel. One of the most powerful beings in existence. And you–you…I saw the reports, Crowley. I-I know what they did to you. And why.”

Crowley scoffed, finally dragging his gaze from the skies but falling short of Aziraphale’s face.

“Oh? And that made you wake up, did it?”

“Among other things. Yes.”

A crinkle formed between Crowley’s eyebrows.

“Well…glad I could be your cautionary tale.”

Aziraphale swallowed down the sob that was clawing its way up his throat. He had always known that there was more to the story of Crowley’s Fall than he had let on and Aziraphale wasn’t brave enough to ask about. But reading those reports, the ones Muriel had alluded to, and seeing Metatron’s true colours, had been the final straw. The wake up call he needed to finally leave. To walk away from Heaven and Hell and all their dealings and seek out the one person, the only person that made him feel that everything would be better once he was near him.

And it was.

Even if Crowley loathed him now.

Even if he hated him.

“‘For God did not spare angels when they sinned, but sent them to Hell, putting them in chains of darkness to be held for judgment,’” he quoted, sadness tinging his soul before chancing another glance at him. “And you were the first, weren’t you?”

Crowley gave a minute nod.

“Those chains weren’t metaphorical.”

A sharp stab of pain pierced Aziraphale’s entire body.

“I—I’m sorry, Crowley. Even though I’ve been presented with oodles of evidence over the years that disproved it…I still called you the bad guy. Maybe even tried to convince myself of it once or twice to fit what I’d been taught to believe. But I’ve known for a long time that you aren’t. You never were. But I was. I was truly awful to you, not befitting of an angel at all. And…I realise now that just as there are a lot of angels that aren’t fully good, there also must be demons that aren’t fully bad, either. But you especially. Your punishment did not fit your crime.”

Crowley took a breath.

“Careful, Aziraphale. Don’t want to risk being smitten.”

“I don’t care anymore.”

His golden eyes blinked rapidly, clearly stunned by the admission. Were it not for the circumstances, Aziraphale would have preened at the fact that after all these years, he still managed to surprise him.

“Angels, Demons, Heaven, Hell—I don’t want anything to do with any of it anymore,” he said firmly, though losing his nerve somewhat and breaking eye contact, staring over Crowley’s shoulder instead. “It didn’t take me very long to realise that…none of it mattered. I…couldn’t make a difference, even if Metatron’s offer had been legitimate. Which it wasn’t.”

Steeling himself, he took one last deep breath that he knew he didn’t need but felt like he did all the same.

“But mostly, none of it mattered because I didn’t have you by my side.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Crowley stiffen, his entire body tense as a bowstring. Hating that he was the cause, yet again, he hurried to continue.

“I missed you, Crowley. So very much. Every second of every day. I tried to…to tell myself that it was for the best. That I was doing the right thing. That you’d come around and we’d be together again, but…you were the one that was right. I lied to myself about so many things. I was stupid. An idiot. I was…blinded by the light. Bound by its empty promises. But you saw Heaven for what it truly is so long ago. It’s the other side of Hell’s coin. Its mirror, twin. Different packaging but with the same goal. Only out for power and control, but dressing it up as ‘the greater good.’ I’m sorry it took me six thousand years to finally see that.”

When he risked a glance at his old so-much-more-than-just-friend, he looked…gobsmacked. His already large eyes practically bugging out of their sockets as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Finally, when Aziraphale couldn’t take it anymore, Crowley spoke:

“...you missed me, Angel?”

His stomach flipped at the sound of the pet name he kept hearing over and over in the back of his mind on quiet days.

“That’s what you got from that?”

“Well,” Crowley shrugged, waving a hand. “I mean, I got the gist—Heaven, Hell, both bad in different and similar ways—yada, yada, yada.”

“‘Yada, yada, yada?” Aziraphale repeated, aiming for exasperated but sounding far too fond. “That’s what you got from my crisis of faith? My denouncing of everything I was taught to believe in and my likelihood of being promptly sent Down because of it?”

“Yep,” Crowley popped the ‘p’ loudly, before a small but definite smile started to spread across his face.

Warmth pooled in Aziraphale’s stomach at the sight, his gaze catching on those lips that he had definitely not spent the last thirteen months, two weeks, four days, 47 minutes and…15 seconds daydreaming about.

Sixteen.

Seventeen.

Eight—

“You kissed me.”

The smile vanished from Crowley’s face. A mask of cold indifference replaced it.

“I’m a demon. My lies aren’t just audible.”

Pain, unlike anything Aziraphale had ever felt, shot through him, startling him more than if he were to be discorporated all over again.

“I…” he gasped, struggling through it. “I don’t believe you.”

Crowley tilted his head to the side.

“I don’t care if you believe me, Aziraphale. Not anymore.”

With that, he walked away, shattering Aziraphale’s heart for the second time.

“No, wait, Crowley, please! I can’t leave it like this. I’m sorry, I—”

“I forgive you.”

The words sounded hollow. Called over Crowley’s shoulder as he continued to storm down the road, past Give Me Coffee, Or Give Me Death and towards his ever-reliable Bentley.

Desperate and panicking, Aziraphale yelled after him:

“I’minlovewithyouIhavebeensincebeforeIcanrememberbutonlyrealisedwhatitmeantonceyou’dkissedmeandleft!”

It all rushed out of him in one big breath. The confession he had kept in for thirteen months, two weeks, four days, 48 minutes and 27 seconds.

Twenty-eight.

Twenty-nine.

Thir—

“Uh…” Crowley began, turning on his heel, his brow furrowed. “Want to try that again with more space between the words?”

Oh, bugger.

Taking the deepest, shakiest, most necessary breath of his long, long life, Aziraphale forced himself to meet those eyes he loved so very much and say what he suspected had been true for millennia now.

“I’m in love with you, Crowley,” he took one step towards him, two, three. “I have been since, well, forever, I’d wager. But I only truly realised what that meant when you kissed me. And we parted ways. And I had to live without you, knowing that you were upset with me and we might never have the chance to—”

“Stop.”

Fear sparked through his entire being as he halted, barely a foot from Crowley.

He felt something hit his cheek, but his tears had yet to fall.

No. It was beginning to rain.

He watched as Crowley searched his face, and his own face, which Aziraphale once found easier to read than any book in his shop, now indecipherable.

“I can’t…hmm…” a choked groan, a glance away. “Please, Angel, I can’t bear it. I can’t have you say…say…that…and not…not mean—”

“I mean it,” he interjected, his hands reaching up to clasp his face, their eyes locking at last. “I have never meant anything more in my entire life. No thought, prose, or prayer has ever come close to describing just how deeply, how vastly, I feel for you. It’s not enough. No poem or Jane Austen novel, or the Word of God Herself will ever be enough, but…I love you, Crowley. I’m in love with you. Everything else is all rather…ineffable, I’m afraid.”

He watched eagerly as Crowley took seven shallow breaths, before…

“That sounded pretty ‘effable’ to—”

Aziraphale leaned up and pressed their lips together, swallowing the end of his sentence. Crowley’s mouth was as warm as he remembered but worryingly just as tense. With a little groan of concern, Aziraphale swept his thumb across his cheek, relieved when he began to relax under his touch.

Slowly, gently, he coaxed his mouth open a little wider, summoning all his bravery to brush his tongue against his bottom lip, feather-light.

That seemed to awaken something in Crowley, who growled into his mouth, hands coming up to clutch tightly at his hips in a way that had Aziraphale’s stomach clenching as he pulled them even closer together—the culmination of six thousand years of yearning between them.

“I-I’m on our side,” he gasped into the sliver of space between their mouths when the kiss eventually broke. “A team. A group of two. An Us. Together. So neither of us has to be lonely any more. For—for however long we have left.”

Crowley gaped at him, his gorgeous eyes shining bright, just as the heavens opened and rain pelted down from the sky.

“Oh my God,” he chuckled as they were quickly soaked by a sudden, torrential downpour. “It’s actually raining, isn’t it?”

“Hmm, indeed,” Aziraphale grinned before dutifully dragging him under the awning of Nina’s coffee shop and looking deeply into his eyes, as per the script of these sorts of things.

Instinctively, their wings wrapped around one another, a black and white feathery shelter of their own.

“What was it you said, dear? ‘Vavoom?’”

Crowley rubbed very distracting circles into his lower back.

“Well, yeah. But there is also the matter of the One Fabulous Kiss.”

Aziraphale tilted his head, his thumb reaching up to brush the edge of his mouth.

“Hmm. But I thought we already did that. Is ‘one fabulous kiss’ the limit? Or is it two? Maybe thr—”

Crowley pulled him back in by his lapels, pressing their lips together far gentler than last time but just as passionately.

It felt heavenly. No…earthly. Real. More wondrous and divine than any miracle.

“Aww. An angel and demon in love.”

“How original.”

They broke apart with a startled jump, only to turn to Beelzebub and Gabriel, staring back at the two of them.

“We did it first,” Crowley argued, sounding winded. “Millennia before you two copycats, actually.”

Beelzebub rolled their eyes as Gabriel glanced at Aziraphale, looking thoughtful.

“Huh. Guess loving a demon really isn’t a fallable offense then.”

Aziraphale flushed, feeling Crowley’s heavy gaze on the side of his face.

“I guess not,” he replied. “What are you two doing here?”

“Oh!”

Crowley squeezed his shoulder, turning him towards him.

“In all the excitement,” he wiggled his eyebrows. “I forgot to tell you. I have a plan to save the world.”

God, how he loved Anthony J. Crowley.

Warmth pooled in Aziraphale’s stomach as he reached out and linked their hands together.

“I trust you, dear. Lead the way.”

And so off they went to save humanity for the second time.

No longer chained by darkness nor bound by light, but something else entirely. Just…them. Free. An Us. As complex and colourful as any nebula and more extraordinary and powerful than any miracle ever performed.

Maybe even by God Herself.

[zaenight]

Ain't your mama ch1 prequal to mama didn't raise no bitches

Tw: slight Ableism , verbal abuse , abandonment , etc.

When Maeve trager was in highschool she fell in love with a boy , no not a grade a student , or a sports player , but a biker , he was known as trouble throughout tacoma , getting into fights , putting people in the hospital , running away and hanging with the wrong people.

But that was Happy Lowman , the name was an odd choice , it wasn't a nickname , it was right there on his birth certificate.

But that was another thing that made Maeve trager fall for him , however there was a barrier between them , She couldn't hear the whispers or the judgment in her peers voices because the trager was born deaf.

But what she didn't know was that he too was infatuated with her as well , but he had no idea how to speak to someone who could not hear,lets just say mama lowman was suprised to see he was learning sign language.

Happy lowman was also known to fuck any woman with tits and two legs , but maeve trager changed all that when he saw her for the first time.

I mean the first time he officially tried to speak with her face to face could've gone better.

He thought leaning on the lockers and waiting for her to close hers and look him in the eyes would be a good idea , until she shut her locker , let out a muffled like scream and sucker punched him.

It was then that happy lowman knew he was in love for the first time.

And their weird relationship started , with the girl's older brother of two years started third wheeling from time to time , tig trager was a odd one , but happy made him seem normal , well beside's the blue eyed man's perverted mouth , happy usually stayed quiet untill anything death related popped up.

And then he started hanging around the mc's along with Maeve's brother,it was then the two realized maybe it was best for the two to go their seperate ways,but not before maeve gave him a happy face tattoo.

"Your name is Happy yet you rarely smile unless your with me , so i want to put a permanent smile on you , that way even if you don't show it on your face , I'll know your happy,does that make sense." Maeve had signed to him.

"Not at all but I'll go with it anyways." he had smirked as he signed back.

And it was then happy realized he would always love the trager woman , but by the time they reached their twenties , she was with another and he was in with the sons of

anarchy 's tacoma charter , earning him the name the tacoma killer.

Maeve met a man , Marcus Coleman , He was kind and gentle , at least he was untill

he realized he should have never fallen for someone who couldn't even hear him.

It got worse when after four years of being together she announced she was pregnant , she was twenty nine and he was thirty two at this time, How could she ever be a mother when she couldn't even hear if the damn kid was crying or laughing , but he stayed , he did not stay out of love , but stayed out of fear , fear that the mc she held very close to her heart would come after him , and that sadistic man would come from tacoma and steal away everything , everything he tried so hard to make perfect.

What he didn't know was that she knew in her heart he did not care for her as she once did for him , in all honesty even though Maeve trager couldn't hear , she knew , knew that he was out with prostitutes and would curse her when she wasn't looking , but she was , He never bothered to learn sign for her , so she never told him that she could read his lips , she could feel the hatred and the loathing from him , the disgusted look in his eyes as he looked at her stomach , no matter how hard he hid it with a smile it was there in plain sight.

But that didn't matter to maeve , what mattered was that Her child would be her second light in this dark and cruel world , even marcus knew that Maeve would always put her children before anything , but what he didn't know was that first light in this world belonged to the first man she truly loved.

.......

He didn't show until Two hours after the last and final push that was the birth of Sage "Sera" Trager , On May 5th , which was coincidently also the birthday of John teller , president of samcrow , 1991, which led to  Alexander "Tig" trager almost decking him on sight , being held back by john teller and the club himself , and low and behold Happy fucking lowman was there holding maeve's hand instead of Marcus , The two were the definition if eyes could talk.

Marcus was furious when he Announced he was the child's godfather , even more when the little girl was born she didn't shed a tear or wail , Marcus knew somthing was wrong and demanded a hearing test , low and behold she wasn't deaf at all , in fact Maeve had wrote on a whiteboad because marcus was to small minded to comprehend sign language , that their daughter Sage , had been born not breathing , causing panick amongst the mc and Maeve who could sense somthing wrong , it wasn't until , Happy lowman snatched the unmoving child from the doctor , and a smack echoed throughout the room , followed by a happy like gurgle , not a wail or a scream , but a happy gurgle that could've been mistaken for a laugh.

And that was the Traumatic and mircle birth of sage trager and how happy was the reason she lived to tell her story,It was then that everyone realized Maeve trager and Happy lowman made an odd pair , Marcus would have demanded a dna test to prove she was truly his ,but that baby was as white as white can be.

........

When Sage turned two , she still didn't speak , Marcus was furious saying that Maeve teaching her sign language ment she would speak with her hands instead of her mouth , but refused to take her to the doctor to confirm somthing he dreaded , that she may be on the spectrum , Sage didn't like the sound of the door slamming or the smell of strawberries , the bright hospital lights distracted her as the flickered until her focus on the light would be broken by the doctors and she she would scream and lash out,but still he refused to get her checked out.

Her Fasination with bones then became clear as Happy brought her a fossil digging kit as he came down from tacoma to visit his girls , much to Marcus's dismay.

Samcrow eventually noticed the two year old's fasination when Tig brought the two for a samcrow charter party , when the two year old brought in a bird skelton from outside and threw it in the face of a fifteen year old Jax teller and one of the croweaters.

Jax teller never thought a two year old would be his tormenter but here we are , oh how his father john had a laugh with that.

Untill a few months later John teller passed away on November 13th , 1993 from an

Automobile accident with an 18 Wheeler , at least that's what they said.

Another few weeks later Maeve

was once again pregnant and on August 10th , 1994 Jessie "Jess" Trager was born,The club was delighted,Chibs Telford was named godfather , And that was When Sage trager finally spoke for the first time.

"Jezzie."

On that day Sage made sure her voice would be heard from now on , However once again , Marcus was not happy when Jess was showing early signs of adhd once she turned two and Sage was Five.

That was also around the time Marcus Coleman called it quits , and left the three Tragers for good , no good bye's or hugs , just left.

.......

"Habby!" Jessie yelled out bouncing and clapping on her Mother's lap as the man entered the clubhouse , catching a five year old sage who came running towards him.

"Look what uncle tiggy brought me from his night in jail , he said he stabbed an eye with it." Sage said holding a makeshift knife that was made out of a plastic fork and a sharpened toothbrush , courtesy of tig.

"Is your mother okay with this." Happy said to sage as he signed towards maeve , raising a brow.

"As long as she doesn't stab jax in the leg again it's fine." Maeve signed.

Happy snorted as the fact a five year old stabbed an eighteen year old.

"Why'd you take your fury out on him this time?" Happy said amused.

"Tara was playing my patient and then he stole her for kissy time , so I stabbed his leg , look the blood is still on it." Sage said showing him , For a five year old this is very concerning.

"Tha Lass is yer mini me , I say we call er' mini happy." Chibs stated with laugh as Jess Bounced off Maeve's lap and launched into Chibs arms.

Maeve went over to Happy , grabbing his hand and then slapped his bald head.

"Ow woman what'd you do that for!" Happy exclaimed to suprised to sign , but knowing maeve read his lips.

"Who did you fight , your knuckles are bloodied and bruised." Maeve signed to him , and then placed her hands on her hips and raised her brow.

"Just a dude that pissed me off." Happy said shrugging , mind you he was still holding Sage who then spotted Jax and Tara , and rushed over to them.

"Can we play doctor again , I promise I won't stab Jaxy again." Sage said pulling on Tara's pants.

"Alright C'mon." Tara said As Jess waddled over and jumped on Sage's back and the three girls were off , leaving behind a pouting jax and a laughing opie who walked in.

"Poor jackie boy always having his girl stolen." Chibs laughed as Tig waltzed , yes waltzed in.

Maeve had bandaged happy's hand as the rest of samcrow came in along with Gemma,The club had partied all night long.

And that is only the half of what has happened becaused this story is just begining.

---------

[hallowcked]

The only thing Tyler could hear was the loud, wet thudding of his fists as they collided with Gage's face. If he allowed himself to, he could hear Brooke's shrilling cries in the background, and if anything, they only made him want to drown them out with more punches. He couldn't believe she was this concerned for Gage. The same guy who was just taunting him by grabbing her ass and boobs in front of everyone. The same guy who was clearly trying to get a rise out of him by mentioning going upstairs to fuck her, out loud. Did she not care about him anymore? Or the way that he feels? If it weren't for Naomi coming in and asking her to take him away, would she have stayed with Gage instead? It seemed so.

Tyler couldn't even look at Naomi without feeling guilty. She wasn't a part of this. In her eyes, he probably looked like a deranged psychopath. He could see it written all over her face but what he didn't expect, was to see it all over Brooke's face as well. Then again - he knew she was afraid of him. They had many arguments where he voiced this concern and she would tell him that she wasn't. But the truth of the matter is, she is.

"What do you mean have I lost my mind?" Tyler didn't even want to walk with her. He didn't want to argue in front of Naomi so he did what she asked and left the room with Brooke. But he knows Naomi was only looking out for him. He has unfinished business with Brooke and Naomi could see that. She was his appointed spirit guide after all. Or maybe he was just thinking optimistically and maybe she wasn't looking out for him at all. It's possible she just wanted to get away from him. That was more likely.

"I can't believe you would rather stay with him than leave with me. That you're sitting there crying over him." Tyler points a finger in the direction they came from. He's certain Naomi can still hear him hollering down the hall but he doesn't care. It's about time she met the real Tyler. He's not some misunderstood boy from the wrong side of the tracks. He's a selfish, unrelenting animal that should have died the first time around. Instead some stupid higher-power decided he should live, so he could go around and ruin more lives. Or in Brooke's case, the same lives.

"You knew I was in the yard with you while he's groping your tits, grabbing your ass, and grinning at me the entire time. If I were doing that to you with someone else, how would that make you feel?" Right, she punched a girl in the face and they weren't doing anything other than talking. In Tyler's eyes, there's no way she wasn't aware of what was happening. "You must really fucking like this guy. I was wrong. It's not me and you." At first, Tyler thought her relationship with Gage was just a fling — something to distract herself with. Now he wasn't so sure. "And so much for you saying you're not afraid of me. I knew you were fucking lying." He points at her face and then takes a step back. Neither one of them has changed since high school. The only difference is, Tyler's in Jake's place. Now he gets to watch the girl that he loves fall into the arms of some conniving bastard. But unlike Jake, he wasn't going to wait around while she rides off on the back of his bike to get fucked somewhere.

--

Gage groans and tries to lift his head but its pounding and he can't see past the blood in his eyes. He can hear Naomi's voice though and reaches for her arm to hold. "Where's Brooke?" He asks and turns his head around to see if she was still there. If he finds out she went off with Tyler, he'll crawl his way back to his feet and kill him. He was going to kill him either way. If people thought Dante looked bad, wait until he gets his revenge on Tyler. "Dude sucker punched me. I'm going to fucking kill him."

"It's not---" Brooke's quick to interject. She doesn't want to make their issues ( or her issues ) about Tyler even though they are. Had he not shown up when he did, taken her against the bathroom door and left her more confused than ever - then they probably would've been okay.

But, for whatever reason Brooke couldn't seem to shake what went down any more than Tyler could as he barges into the room as if he's on a mission to do... what exactly? She doesn't know. Besides, interrupt her and Gage's kiss. That's all they were doing when the door swung open and Tyler started slinging accusations around that couldn't be further from the truth. "Tyler, what're you---" she doesn't get the chance to finish her thoughts or her sentence before all hell breaks loose.

One minute she's staring back at Gage apologetically, albeit confused, and the next he's on the floor at her feet. Suffering blow after blow, while Brooke is screaming for Tyler to stop. "Tyler, stop it!" The last time they were in this same position, it had been Jake trapped underneath him. This time it was Gage. She couldn't get him to stop then and she couldn't get him to stop now.

Sobs wracked her small frame as Brooke tried to intervene but, every time she got close enough to try, she had to jump back just to avoid getting hit herself. She knows Tyler would never lay a hand on her but, she's also never seen him this angry before. Which would make sense. The last few years haven't kind to him and almost dying and coming back to life is sure to do a number on anyone. Not to mention, the stuff with them. Tyler had every reason to want to fight back. To unleash his frustrations out on the world through the first, and right now, only person he deemed deserving of it. "Seriously, stop! You're hurting him." Gage might have taunted Tyler ( without Brooke knowing or catching on ) but, he didn't deserve to have his face rearranged.

"Tyler, that's enough." It was Naomi's voice that cut through the commotion now. She'd watched the three of them head inside when she came outside to grab a drink. She knew the look in Tyler's eyes as he entered because she'd seen it in Gage's plenty. With the help of both girls, Naomi and Brooke were able to tug on Tyler's shirt and get him to come to a full stop.

As much as Naomi wanted to ask what the hell was going on, she refrained at the sight of Gage moaning on the floor, blood spilling from his mouth and his nose. Before Brooke could, she knelt down beside him and tried to assess his injuries like she has so many times in the past. "He's going to be okay. He's still breathing but, we should get him cleaned up." Her eyes cut to Brooke and Tyler.... Tyler who is still heaving and coming down from his violent outburst and Brooke who looks horrified.

"You should take him and go." Naomi was talking to Brooke now while referring to Tyler. Even though she'd only been present for five minutes, she could tell there was a lot going on. And even if, it was probably Brooke's duty as Gage's girlfriend to tend to him, she clearly wasn't in the right headspace to be taking care of someone when she could hardly take care of herself. "Trust me, I've got this." Naomi knew Gage well enough, she'd know how to fix this. And while she'd gotten to know Tyler intimately lately, she didn't think she was the best person right now to convince him to go cool off before he did something he would truly regret.

"Fine." As much as Brooke didn't want to leave Gage in the state he was currently in, and with his ex girlfriend no less, Naomi was right. Both he and Tyler needed to be separated and because this was all her fault, Brooke felt responsible for getting answers or clarity on what the hell just happened.

"Have you lost your mind?!" Brooke shrills, once she guides Tyler out of the room and their far enough out of earshot. They end up down the hall, where she jabs a finger at his chest. "What the hell are you doing? What was that?!"

Meanwhile, Naomi rips a sheet off the bed and lays half of it under Gage's head while the other half is used to mop up some of the blood. "I don't know what happened but, are you okay? Can you even hear me?"

[daenqyu]

— they accidentally confess to their crush

includes: shinsou, bakugou, midoriya, todoroki and hawks

warnings: swearing

a/n: thank you for requesting <3 i love this idea! it’s so cute🥺 also, hawks’ may be a little longer than the others because it’s my first time writing for him and i got a bit excited👉🏼👈🏼 

ps: i don’t mind writing for hawks if it’s a headcannon and/or texts! so feel free to request him :D and yes, this is a repoost because the algorithm hates me.

( gif isn’t mine !! credits go to @tetsuruo )

shinsou hitoshi:

it would happen so randomly and out of the blue

as i said before, i think shinsou is a really reserved and quiet type of guy

but that seems to vanish whenever he’s around you

he’s more talkative and constantly goes out with you so you guys can have some quality time together

you also make him really nervous 

he’s pretty chill with everyone and seems to not give a fuck about most things

but with you?

that’s a whole different story 

whenever you keep your gaze stuck on him when he’s talking and his eyes meet yours, his heart never fails to do backflips because fuck you’re so cute

(oh to have shinsou think i’m cute D:)

ok back to the actual hc,,, 

you two were hanging out in your room, listening to music and just talking 

even tho your best friends, shinsou never really tells you much about his personal life

of course you know the basics like his hobbies and all his favorite things

but he never talks to you about...crushes or anything 

and you don’t like that because :( friends are supposed to tell each other this stuff, right? 

it’s fun and makes the bond even stronger

so you decide to ask him because why not?

“hey shinsou?” 

he’s sitting down next to you on your bed, your legs draped over his

which makes him feel all warm inside

it’s stupid and definitely not a big deal, 

but it’s little things like this that make him fall more and more for you

“yes?” 

“do you have a crush?” you wiggle your eyebrows at him in a teasing way, although he’s not even looking your way

a part of you is nervous to hear his response 

because unbeknownst to shinsou, you reallyyy like him

and have been crushing on him for quite some time now, but since you’re so sure the feelings are one sided, you don’t tell him

he’s too invested on the game he’s playing on your switch, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he concentrates

so he almost misses your question

and when he does answer, he’s not even paying attention to the words that leave his mouth

“apart from you? no”

it takes him a good minute to process what he said

meanwhile you’re sitting there like :o

you certainly weren’t expecting THAT

like it’s a good thing!!!! but you’re kinda flustered 

especially when shinsou finally looks up at you, eyes widened in surprise at his own bluntness as he opens and closes his mouth a few times, not knowing what to say now

“wait! i didn’t mean it like that!”

“you didn’t?”

he notices the slight pain in your voice and the way you move away from him slowly and he’s quick to apologize 

“shit, okay...yes i like you but i didn’t say anything because i don’t want to make things weird between us or ruin what we have right now”

he’s looking everywhere but you

because he doesn’t exactly want to face you when you reject him

but you don’t ???

instead you giggle and before he can ask you what’s so funny, you climb on his lap to hug him, causing him to blush furiously 

“i like you too, toshi”

the nickname makes him hug you even tighter while he hides his face on your neck 

it was such a cute confession and even when you two start going out, you never stop bringing it up

which makes shinsou extremely embarrassed 

“hey remember when you confessed and-”

“y/n, we’ve talked about this”

“oh come on! you were so adorable”

he pouts at you 

“were?”

people think he looks so scary but he’s actually a whole ass baby

you roll your eyes before leaning down to give him a sweet kiss, 

“you’re such a baby”

“hm, your baby”

“oh my god you did not”

yeah no, he’s in love with you👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

( gif isn’t mine !! credits go to @bakugousmyboy )

bakugou katsuki:

i feel like it would be pretty difficult to have bakugou accidentally confess directly to you

he knows how to control himself and his emotions so i doubt he’d actually ever do something like this

however,

he’s not that good at hiding his crush on you and mostly everyone on class 1A knows the boy is an absolute sucker for you

except you because apparently you think he’s just being nice

and everyone else is like wtf???? 

like he’s ALWAYS screaming at everyone 

but when it’s you he doesn’t 

in fact, sometimes he even lowers his voice so it won’t bother you 

so that behavior is the one that caused him to be stuck in the situation he is right now

he sat in the common room with kirishima and kaminari, trying to eat his food in peace but the two idiots, as he likes to call them, wouldn’t shut up

he had completely blocked out both of their voices, focusing on finishing his meal and getting the hell away from them

until he heard your name being mentioned 

“dude when are you gonna ask y/n out? everyone knows how much you like her  so might as well you know,” kirishima bumps his shoulder against the blonde, only to receive a glare. “get some action”

“yeah bakubro, she’s super cute too” kaminari buts in and bakugou is about to punch them both in the face

“shut the fuck up. i don’t like her” bakugou scoffs

“but you’re such a softie for her”

“huh?! i treat her the same as i treat all of you extras!” oh but he knows he’s lying, you can’t even compare to any of your annoying classmates 

kirishima smirks, “i’m pretty sure you’ve never once, raised your voice at her”

“so? that doesn’t mean shit”

kaminari looks at kirishima and the redhead nods at him, giving him the green light

“well since you don’t like her, you wouldn’t mind if i ask her out? because i’ve been wanting to-” kaminari can’t even finish his sentence before bakugou grabs him by the collar of his shirt

kaminari yelps, looking over at his other friend for help but he moves his head quickly, knowing better than to get involved 

“you try and make a move on her and i swear to God i’ll blast you all the way across japan, dunce face”

bakugou’s voice is threatening and low, and kaminari knows he means every word so he quickly raises his arms in defeat and nods his head

“okay, okay! i swear i won’t”

little do they know that you’ve been standing behind them for a while now

you’re happy to know your feelings are reciprocated 

but of course you want to tease bakugou about it

“hm did my ears deceive me or does boom boom boy have a crush on me?” 

kirishima and kaminari take that as their cue to run away to their rooms, leaving you two alone

“tch, how long have you been standing there?” even as he glares you down, he can’t hide the blush on his cheeks 

he didn’t want you to find out this way

or at all tbh

you walk over to him, a wide smile on your lips

“long enough”

afterwards you ask him if he wants to go watch a movie with you the next day and he’s lowkey mad because he wanted to ask you on a date first, but he doesn’t say no

you end up having way more fun than expected and you actually confirmed that bakugou was a softie for you 

(turns out you were the last one to find out because literally everyone else knew)

( gif isn’t mine !! credits go to its rightful owner )

midoriya izuku:

OKAY HE’D BE THE MOST FLUSTERED OUT OF ALL OF THEM

he can barely function around girls in general so like, what does that tell you?

he likes you so much but he’s so scared 

but he’s also so sweet to you even before you start dating oml

midoriya is a sweetheart, we all know this

and he pays so much attention to you

like if you are the mall one day and you see something you really like but can’t buy it for whatever reason well…

a few days later he gets it for you

he would say something along the lines of, “you seemed to really like it so i got it for you”

“you didn’t have to, izuku!”

“but i wanted to”

you’ll try to pay him back in some sort of way but he absolutely refuses

he loves pampering you

yet whenever you try to do the same he doesn’t let you and it’s: ✨annoying✨

anyways,

you were supposed to go to the movies

but midoriya had forgotten he had some homework to do, which was due the next day

“i’m so sorry y/n! i completely forgot, but i promise i’ll finish quickly” he tried to reassure you and you chuckle at the boy, so cute

“it’s okay, izuku. i don’t mind waiting”

you lay down on his bed, trying your best to keep your eyes open 

but as much as you tried, you eventually fell asleep against the soft sheets, your best friend’s bed being just too comfortable 

midoriya sat on his desk chair, writing down the answers as fast as he could so you guys could go watch the movie you were so excited about

he let out a sigh of relief when he finished, before taking his phone out to check the time

6:37PM, the movie starts at 7PM so we still have time

he stood up to tell you he had finished, but was met with your sleeping figure

your eyes were closed and soft snores left your slightly parted lips, hands gripping his sheets to your chest

the curly haired boy almost combusted at the sight

you looked so peaceful, so pretty

a smile grazed his lips as he made his way over to the bed

he sat down beside you, quietly admiring your features 

feeling the mattress dip thanks to his weight, you began to wake up, but quickly shut your eyes when you noticed midoriya was looking at you

truth be told, you just wanted to scare him by suddenly jumping

but his next words made your breath hitch

one of his hands moved up to your face, resting it gently against your cheek as his thumb massaged the skin

your heartbeat was out of control and you forced yourself to calm your breathing so he wouldn’t notice you were awake 

his touch was so gentle and sweet, you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away

“i wish i could tell you how beautiful you are” he whispered and if you hadn’t been so close to him, you probably wouldn’t have heard him

after hearing him say that you couldn’t stay still

you opened your eyes, a smile quickly spreading across your features as you turned around to face the green haired boy

midoriya almost had a heart attack when you moved, hoping you hadn’t heard him

but based on the mischievous grin you wore, he knew you had

“well you just did”

“y-you were awake?!”

“yup, i’m glad i was tho”

hE’S INTERNALLY SCREAMING

your gaze is flirtatious and you’re still grinning and he’s just >_<

“now let’s go or we’ll be late!” 

midoriya can only nod before following you outside

once you’re on your way to the movie theater, you notice midoriya fidgeting with his fingers, his eyes glued to his shoes

you smile as you suddenly take his hand in yours, interlacing your fingers together 

midoriya looks at you with a nervous expression, what is she doing?

“you know, you’re beautiful too”

you were looking at him with nothing but love in your eyes and he felt so embarrassed yet excited at the same time

because holy fuck you just called him beautiful AND held his hand???

he thinks it can’t get any better than this

and then it does when you kiss him a few weeks later😳🤚🏼

( gif isn’t mine !! credits go to @ambershaydeoffical )

todoroki shouto:

like bakugou, i don’t really think he’d be clumsy enough to accidentally confess

however, he does like to speak his mind and isn’t afraid to do so

he’s just really honest and blunt

way too honest 

which gets him in trouble sometimes but oh well, that’s just the way he is and everyone is pretty used to his personality by now

though, after figuring out he liked you as more than a friend, he started to think more before talking

sometimes you liked to get his opinion on your outfits and/or hairstyles

so you’d drag him to you room and force him to be honest and tell you which one he liked most

it doesn’t matter what you wear, you always look beautiful 

he wants to say that, but instead he goes:

“they all look good, i think the purple shirt really fits you tho”

“i was thinking the same thing!”

he doesn’t want to scare you off or make things weird

so he forces himself to hold back on his bluntness 

at least when he’s with you

but one day he just can’t help himself 

you were on your way back to the dorms after a tiring day at school

todoroki walked next to you, eyes glancing over to you from time to time so you knew he was listening\

you were currently rambling about how shitty your love life was

claiming that there must be something wrong with you since no one seemed to pay attention to you- at least romantically 

“i mean seriously, am i doing something wrong or is everyone i’ve met just not for me??” 

you had your cheeks puffed out, a pout on your lips as you kicked the small rocks on the floor

todoroki smiled softly at your complaints, thinking irony could be quite funny sometimes 

until you spoke up again,

“maybe i’m just too ugly or boring, that’d make more sense”

todoroki almost stops dead in his tracks to see if you have a fever 

how could you say that????

you’re so gorgeous to todoroki, and interesting 

you’re probably the first girl he’s ever liked this much in his life

and you have the audacity to doubt your worth just because other people can’t seem to appreciate you??

uh uh, he’s not having it

and so, the words come out before he can even register them properly

“if you were as ugly as you say are then, i don’t think i’d like you as much as i do”

your eyes widened and you stopped walking, wondering if you had heard him right

todoroki stops walking too, and once he realizes what happened, he’s looking away, trying to come up with a valid excuse as to why he said that

you, however, can’t stop staring at him

finding the way he glares at the ground adorable

a sense of happiness takes over your whole body when he doesn’t say anything to deny his sudden confession 

because he cannot lie to you

you walk towards todoroki until you’re standing right in front of him and before he can even question what you’re doing, you plant a sweet kiss against his cheek

“good thing the feeling is mutual”

your words make him smile and he looks so happy

probably the happiest he’s ever been

and you feel proud of being the one responsible for that pretty smile of his

neither of you really rush into making things official 

but the way todoroki lets you cuddle on his left side whenever you’re cold or how he waits for you every morning so you can walk together to class makes it more than clear that he really likes you

( gif isn’t mine !! credits go to its rightful owner )

takami keigo (hawks)

he’d be the type to not give a fuck about it

like he already confessed so what can he do?

nothing. exactly

he’s so cocky and flirty the whole time oml

he’d be shocked for a few seconds, but after seeing you were way more flustered than him, he’d just start teasing you

in a loving way of course

he’s also surprised you hadn’t noticed earlier on, considered how much he flirts with you, but then again, that’s part of his personality so

kinda makes sense you didn’t suspect anything

but he’s so cute and soft for you 🥺

okok so it happened the same day you got your results for your midterms

(you’re a college student here lol)

you had studied your ass off for this tests

staying up until 4AM and having to ditch your friends when they invited you to go out

so you were really positive

you squealed when your teacher hands you back the papers and you see the grade on the right corner

you felt happy to know that all your hard work wasn't in vain

the nerves you had been feeling since the day you took the midterms quickly vanished and were replaced with the feeling of pride

as you walked out of the building, you dialed the person who you wanted to share the news most with

he picked up after the second ring

���what’s up?” his voice was raspy and you ignored the butterflies that appeared in your stomach at the sound

“hey, i have great news!”

“care to elaborate?”

“you’ll find out when i get to your house”

“oh? and who said you could come over?” his tone is teasing and you can practically hear the smirk on his face, which makes you roll your eyes

“i did, now bye. i’ll be there in five minutes and order some pizza to celebrate” you don’t even get hear his complaints because you’ve already hung up

anyone who saw the way you two acted with each other would automatically think you guys were a couple

you were rather affectionate with each other; occasionally holding hands while you walked down the streets and even calling each other by your first names

that was just the bond you two had, and you loved it

he brought you so much comfort

it was almost ridiculous the way he was able to make you smile by simply calling or texting you

you had grown quite attached to the number 2 hero, but you constantly told yourself you needed to snap out of it

because you were friends

nothing more and nothing less

oh but how you wished there was more to your relationship than just that

you shook your head, as if that could help you get rid of the thoughts

true to your word, you soon found yourself outside of keigo’s house

the college you went to wasn’t that far away from there so

you pushed the doorbell and waited around two minutes before a sleepy looking keigo opened the door

his hair was messy and the way he rubbed his eyes and kept yawning let you know he probably had been taking a nap

you scoff, “were you sleeping?” you ask him as you walk into his home, smiling at the familiar scent

he chuckles from behind you, following you into his living room, “maybe, but you woke me up”

“can’t believe your lazy ass earned the number two spot”

“what can i say? it’s a talent,” he shrugs before sitting down next to you on the couch, resting his face on his hand. “so, what’s the good news?”

“so you know i took my midterms last friday, right?” keigo nods. “well, i got my results today” he raises his eyebrows in surprise and waits as you look for the papers inside your bag

once you get them out, you place them in front of your face so he can see for himself

keigo smiles proudly and it only widens when you look up at him expectantly, biting your lower lip

“holy fuck, that’s amazing! you did so good dove”

the nickname makes you weak on the knees but you’re quick to brush it off

you should be used to it, since keigo has been calling you that for quite some time now, yet it never fails to make your heart beat insanely fast

you nod excitedly and put the papers down before you start talking about your experience

keigo can’t help but admire you

you look so happy and cute

it makes him want to kiss you

he wants to shut you up by kissing you, and it sound mean and disrespectful but you just look so gorgeous 😡

and instead of randomly kissing you, he blurts out a confession

“math was probably the hardest but i managed to pass it too, surprisingly, so i-”

he doesn’t even know what you’re talking about anymore, too focused on your smile

“God i like you so much”

you shut up instantly

did you hear that right?

or was your mind playing tricks on you?

keigo looks away momentarily, before locking eyes with you and tilting his head to the side, waiting for a reaction

which he gets soon after because you can’t handle the way he’s looking at you

you look away, hiding your face the best you can

“w-what did you say?”

he smirks after hearing the stutter in your voice

he gets closer to you, until he’s right in front of your face, before saying:

“i like you, y/n”

you don’t know what to say

what are you even supposed to do???

keigo just confessed

your best friend and crush just confessed to you

that’s not something that happens everyday

“i um, like you too” you don’t look at him and he almost chuckles at your shy expression, but decides not to embarrass you any further

“happy to hear that”

he doesn’t say anything for a while and you wonder what the hell is going through his head right

he’s probably just messing with me. oh my God he probably is and i just said i liked him too so what-

your train of thought is cut off when you feel the blonde ruffle your hair while looking at you lovingly

you slowly look up to him

“i’m proud of you, dove”

fuck

“t-thanks”

“now, i think this is something worth celebrating and i’m not talking about pizza. so let me take you out”

“it’s fine, keigo. you don’t need to-”

“can’t hear you, give me about fifteen minutes and then we’ll get going”

you try to tell him no, that it’s fine and you can just eat pizza but he ignores you and still takes you out to eat

i’ll say it again: he’s so sweet :(((

he pays for the food and gives you his jacket when you get cold

he even treats you to some dessert !!

he also kisses you good night when he drops you off at your house <3

[starkerhowlter]

Starker

Daddy Stark's Surprise (E) What Should Peter do to make this Valentine’s Day better and different than others? How can he make this one unique?

Why Peter Parker Can't Have Girl Scout Cookies (T) Clint and Natasha’s daughter is a girl scout, Peter is a sucker for Trefoils cookies.

Who's Your Daddy? (E) Peter wants to do something special for Tony. He surprises him by asking to top, but what if Tony happens to surprise him?

Natural (M) Photoshoots are boring when you don’t have a little bit of fun~

Too Much, Just Enough (M) Sometimes Peter needs the reminder that the scale can be deceiving. 

Old Man~ (T) Peter has started using TikTok. Which if you don’t know, is the BANE of Tony Stark’s existence. From Willy Wonka to weird Twerk Dances, Tony is losing his mind.

Grey (M) Peter's Grey. He feels nothing. Maybe if he lays here long enough, it'll go away.

Good Morning, Good Morning, Good Morning~ (M) “Good Morning, Baby” “What’s all this?”

I'm Not Sick (T) “I’m not sick, Peter!” “Friday, what’s his temp?” “101.2 degrees Fahrenheit.” “mhm.”

Spider On The Wall (T)  Peter loves sleeping next to Tony, he just wishes Tony knew.

Bathroom Floor (E) “I don’t know why we couldn’t have got to your car, Tony. Like, we already paid, we finished eating…” “Because, Peter, I couldn’t wait that long. I have wanted to ruin you all day since we got here and now I can.”

DeskWarmer (E)  “Alright, baby, but I have to get back to work so I can’t give you my full attention. You’ll have to be like a little rent-a-slut at my desk and keep me company.”

Painful Flowers (T) Tony never believed in soulmates. That is, until now.

Got A Secret, Professor Stark? (E) Peter Parker is the biggest badass in the Junior class at NYU, only Tony Stark knows the truth.

Don't Pull Away (M) Peter loves Tony’s hands in his hair. Tony loves having his hands in Peter’s hair.

Come Back To Me (M) “I know, I know you’re never ready for this. Just come back to me after, okay?” Tony nods as Peter kisses his neck, red lipstick print left behind.

Truth or Dare (T) Tony knows it’s a bad idea to invite the kid. He swore he told Steve and Clint to remove the alcohol if they were going to. They didn’t prepare for Thor bringing his own refreshments and spiking the punch, making sure everyone enjoyed themselves in true Norse style.

Like a Fucking Fairytale (T)  “Tony’s left the city for a fairy.” “Sounds like something out of a fucking fairy tale.”

Princess Parker (M): 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11 Tony Stark’s in love. But not with the conventional. Instead, his soulmate is known for temper tantrums about pink lemonades that are too sour and scuffs on the toe of his Louboutin shoes. He’s materialistic, superficial, and cares way too much about his face. So why can’t Tony stay away?

Stucky

Getting Rid Of Winter (M) "Steve, this isn't a good idea..." "Buck, I'm here. What's the worst that could happen?" "I go on a killing spree and destroy half of Brooklyn?" "Well," "Don't say it." "Yeah..." The man sighs, pulling his hair back into a messy bun, "Why do you want to try this?" "Because if we know it works, then I have a viable way to get you out of your murderous headspace if it's needed." Bucky nods, "True... But what if it doesn't work?"

Happy Valentine's Day Soldat~ (M) Bucky hates Valentine’s day. Every year Steve goes off on a mission the day before and doesn’t return until the day after. Every single year, Bucky is forced to watch the other Avengers give and receive gifts and schedule outings. All while he’s forced to worry about his love. This year won’t be any different, right?

40's Boy (M) 'When did he get to be so... cute?' Bucky thinks, shaking his head. 'No, he doesn't think that way about you. He's got all those girls that want him, he doesn't want you.'

Moodboards (Including moodboard embedded in others fics)

Baby in Blue by @khalixascorner (moodboard by me)

Cottagecore Starker

Christmas Starker

[l4verq]

crossed out | b.b

bucky barnes x reader

in which you’re one of the names on bucky’s list

warnings : angst, fluff?, mentions of choking

fic : one shot

a/n : u know i’m a sucker for therapy bucky lol

He should have skipped today’s session.

Cause he’s starting to regret coming when she brings it up.

“You gonna tell me about her?” Cecelia questions, casually flicking through a thick folder labelled James B.B.

But it was never casual.

Bucky knew she was observing his every move, his every tick. And he’d been pretty good at faking through every session until now.

“I thought you were helping me make amends.” He forges an unamused smile, which was second nature now.

“Yes and that’s why I asked you about her.” She looks up from the folder, the smallest smile tugging at her lips.

“It says here that you guys were complicated.” She continues, eyes skimming over a particular page.

Complicated was the last thing he’d use to describe it.

Cause it was the one thing that gave him some clarity, hope that he could be deserving of love again someday.

“We used to date. We broke up.” He gruffs, crossing his arms.

Maybe he should fake a mechanical failure in his arm, reschedule for another time.

“Do you still love her?”

He doesn’t answer but it’s written all over his face and Cecelia can read him like a book.

She turns over his list that she’d assigned him to make, eyes trailing down names until it reaches a hastily crossed out name at the end.

“Why don’t we pick this up next week? I hope you’ll be more comfortable to talk about it then.” She hands him back the small, black notebook.

He hesitantly takes it back, his feet already springing to get out of the room.

Was it just him or was the air running out in this tiny room.

“And, James?” She calls out.

He looks back, slightly winded.

“Remember, sometimes you need to just take a leap of faith, trust your heart.”

He nods solemnly, almost tripping over his legs trying to get to the door.

Hands fumbling over the handle, he’s greeted by a rush of cool air when he finally opens the goddamn door.

He stuffs the notebook in his pocket, taking big strides towards the exit.

It’s the same everyday.

Keep his head down, one sharp left, stop by the nearby cafe if he feels like it.

But today, he takes a right, taking out his flip phone he prefers to the touch screens these days.

Punching in the only number he knows, his stomach’s doing flips.

Don’t pick up, don’t pick up.

“So you do know how to call someone.” Sam picks up after a few rings.

He could almost hear the stupid smirk.

“How are you?” He cringes, the grip on his phone tightening.

It’s a small pause before Sam chuckles, “Y/N’s doing fine. In fact, she just got back from a mission in Prague yesterday.”

Of course, you’d still be going on missions, it was the only thing you knew.

“That’s not why I called.” He huffs, leaning against his car now.

It was an old, beat up Honda that he’d fixed up from the local junkyard.

“Really? Then enlighten me.”

It was Cecelia’s fault for bringing you up. If she hadn’t brought her up, he wouldn’t be here doing this.

“Where is she?” He closes his eyes, wanting the ground to just crack open and swallow him whole.

“Right where you left her.”

He mumbles a hasty goodbye cause he’s not sure he can trust himself to keep his composure any longer.

Getting into the car, he pulls out the notebook, going through the list.

He’d ticked off the list last month, even adding a few more names just to avoid the crossed out name at the end.

He jams the keys in, the car purring to life, before he can change his mind.

-

The door is taunting him.

He doesn’t know how but it is.

A quick exhale and he raises his hand to knock on it, half hoping you won’t open it.

But you do.

He always loved your eyes cause they held so much life to them.

Like for now, confusion morphing to recognition and rage in an instant.

You’re in bad shape, he can gather from the slight limp and bruises.

It feels like forever before you call his name in disbelief, what he’s longed to hear for so long.

He wishes you’d curse him out, hit him or tell him to go away cause that’s what he deserves.

But you don’t.

Instead, your pretty eyes brim with tears.

“Don’t.” He grits his teeth, unable to meet your eyes.

He always hated to see you cry.

“Then, why’d you leave?” Your voice breaks as months of bottled up heartache pour out.

He had to.

You were the only right thing he’d done in a long long time and he couldn’t mess it up.

“I needed to fix myself before I could trust myself around you.”

He grimaces as he remembers the life draining out of your face, while his hands were wrapped around your neck.

That very night he’d left, requested for therapy and could only hope it would work.

But it didn’t.

There was no fixing anything, he’d realised that waking up from nightmares far too many times.

“You could have picked up the phone.” Your voice barely above a whisper, stinging like a nasty burn.

He almost did, everytime.

But he hated himself too much to allow that.

“I’m sorry.” That’s all he can whisper, fighting the urge to take you in his arms.

“If you’d just let me in, realise that I do understand you.” You’re basically pleading at this point but you don’t care.

“I know you do. But you don’t have to. You deserve a better guy.” He says the same thing when he left like a broken radio.

“There is no better guy for me, Bucky. Why can’t you get that through your thick skull?” You limp over closer to him.

You know he’s focused only on your limp, eyes filled with concern as they rake over your wounds.

“Does it hurt?”

The same thing he always used to ask after a mission while tending to your injuries.

“Yea, here.” You pat the left side of your chest, biting down a smile.

He has to fight back one too, but it’s kinda hard.

You meet his eyes, a little too long cause you’ve missed gazing into them every morning.

Maybe this is the leap of faith Cecelia keeps droning on about, he thinks as he leans in, “We should take a look at that, then.”

You sniffle, “I’m still mad at you.”

He laughs, which involuntarily makes you 2% less mad.

“I missed you.” He whispers, his lips inches away from yours.

You don’t have to say it back cause he knows.

He leans in closer, ghosting over your lips, waiting for your approval.

You close the distance, lips crashing into his almost in desperation.

Which you regret almost immediately cause you taste blood.

A split lip and kissing, not so pretty.

He pulls away and you mewl, pulling him back.

“You’re only making your lips worse.” He chuckles, hands slipping into yours.

Instead, he kisses your forehead, trailing all the way to your lips where he pecks them gently.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers again, head leaning on yours.

“I forgave you a long time ago. I was just waiting for you to come back.” You sob, tears springing out again.

He pulls you into his chest, steady hands you’ve craved for so long.

Gently rocking you back and forth, he strokes your hair, fleeting kisses to calm you down.

You’re struggling to keep your legs stable as your eyes grow heavy but you ignore the blatant aches in your body cause you don’t want to leave his embrace.

And he somehow always seems to notice.

“You need to rest.”

You shake your head, holding onto him even tighter.

He knows he won’t win against your stubborn ass so he lifts you up carefully, legs swinging over his arms while you snake your hands around his neck for support.

“Stay.” You mumble as he takes you in the room you two used to share.

And he does.

Boy, was Cecelia in for a ride next session.

-

a/n : im cringing as i post this🧎🏻‍♀️🔫🏃🏻‍♀️jsneyswjausowkaw but supeerr excited for tfatws this friday :)) also i named bucky’s therapist for convenience lol im pretty sure she’s not named in the first ep? i could be wrong tho

[cinnaminsvga]

a love that endures | Yoongi

→ summary: 

“Oh come on! Just go say hi to him already,” Seokjin huffs. He wiggles his eyebrows, striking you with the urge to shave them off in retaliation. “I could feel your ‘God, I miss his dick’ vibes from across the room!”

“I do not emit dick thirst vibes,” you respond hotly, swatting him in the tit. You pause, considering. “Wait, but do you think he misses my p—”

“Say no more,” Seokjin interrupts, a wicked smirk gracing his lips. His gaze is fixed somewhere behind you, but you have a sinking suspicion you know why he looks like he’s won the lottery. “Speaking of the devil, look who’s coming over to say hello!”

{or alternatively: Yoongi and Y/N. Y/N and Yoongi. High school sweethearts that were never meant to last, until a reunion ten years later manages to reignite a flame that never quite burnt out.} 

→ genre: high school reunion!au, exes to lovers, fluff, humor, minor angst → warnings: shy!yoongi and shy!oc live rent free in my brain, mutual pining is poggers, hoseok and seokjin aren’t evil for once in a cinnaminsvga fic, implied smut so it’s pg-13 because i’m a wimp → words: 14.4K → a/n: SHE’S ALIVE!! this is dedicated to @himbeaux-joon​ who commissioned this piece ages ago. thank you again for requesting this because this was honestly so much fun to write. i’ve been in a bit of writing slump these past few weeks but this fic came out so easily and got way longer than expected (perhaps because it’s about yoongi and he’s always been the easiest one to write for me). enjoy!! ;o;

The mere sight of him is enough to knock the wind out of you.

Your body freezes, the hand curled around your paper cup filled with punch tightening ever so slightly. It isn’t like you’re surprised that he came; you aren’t supposed to be. Of course, you should have expected his arrival, but you’ve been hoping all night that he might have been too busy to attend.

He isn’t even on time—it has almost been two hours since the event started and you had been filled with a false hope that perhaps he had RSVP’d and decided he couldn’t make it. 

You had seen Hoseok, his best friend from your younger days, standing outside the entrance of the ballroom before they had started letting people in. The moment Hoseok saw you, he immediately came over to sweep you into a tight hug, his infectious laughter ringing in your ears. He had greeted you happily, expressing how much he missed you since high school, but never once bringing up the elephant in the room.

It wasn’t like you were going to bring him up first. No, that would be weird on your part. Nevermind the fact that going to high school reunions was a recipe for reliving past traumas and seeing all your childhood friends either married or pregnant—you weren’t going to be that person who asked where their ex was. You refused to be the person craning their neck to spy on the entrance every two minutes, hoping to catch sight of an old familiar face.

The problem is that you are that person, and you kind of hate yourself for it. However, it is also the reason why you are probably the only person in the entire ballroom who notices his quiet arrival.

He has never liked causing commotions, which is often apparent from the way he conducts himself. He walks into the room just as a loud round of applause breaks out; an old schoolmate of yours is walking up to the podium, probably the person who had arranged the get-together in the first place. It is a perfect distraction for him as he slinks past the door, keeping near the wall so as not to be seen by anyone just yet.

(Except he has been seen—he just doesn’t know it yet.)

You do not know for how long you stare at him, just that it takes you a moment to realize you haven’t taken a breath since he stepped foot into the same space as you. You take a deep, shuddering breath, forcing your racing heartbeat to calm down. You swallow thickly, throat so unbearably dry that even drinking from your lukewarm cup of punch doesn’t seem to do anything.

But the undeniable truth is there, standing only a few meters away from you, and nothing on earth will be able to wash away the nerves flooding through your system.

After ten years of radio silence, Min Yoongi is in your orbit once again.

In the grand scheme of things, ten years wasn’t all that long. Four years in university had passed by in a blur, and the absolute chaos that ensued right after you graduated as you scrambled to secure a job and move out of your hometown had made the days seem shorter than they actually were. You had not even noticed that time was passing until you found that cream envelope waiting for you one day after work, your alma mater’s school crest painfully recognizable even after all these years.

During all that time, the world around you shifted without you noticing, and that meant people were changing too.

Yoongi is 28 now. And so are you, after many months of denial. You have not seen each other since you were both 18—both of you far too young to know about any of the things you would experience in the next ten years.

He might have grown a little taller since then, something you are sure that your brother will find amusing. His hair isn’t dyed like you remembered, as he has opted to keep it his natural dark black that you have not seen since you were both in middle school. It’s styled differently too: combed over and gelled back, with his bangs pushed back and his forehead exposed. When he turns his head to the side, a gasp spills past your lips before you can stop it.

“Is that a fucking undercut?” you mutter in shock, your eyes straining out of their sockets as you try to drink him in. Even under the dim lighting of the ballroom, his new haircut is hard to miss. No one else seems to be undergoing the same mental collapse as you, judging by how everyone’s attention is still fixated on the person speaking at the podium. How the hell is no one else losing their fucking minds to the sight of Min Yoongi with a fucking undercut? Some questions are impossible to answer, you surmise.

When you decided to attend the reunion, you had not once thought about how Yoongi would look like. Somehow, you had developed this stagnant picture of him in your head, even after all these years. To you, he will always be the boy with the stark blonde hair, the mismatched eyelids, the pouty lips, the dumpling cheeks. He is the boy who can’t wear his own contact lenses to save his life, the boy who sometimes wears his favorite leather jacket to sleep, the boy who only drinks Americanos like it was water.

Gone are those days, you realize. That image of him has been smashed to pieces, instead replaced by this dashing (and incredibly hot) man—a stranger. A stranger with unbleached (and healthy) hair, a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. He has his glasses kept away, and there is no leather jacket in sight.

But you can see him, if you look hard enough. The same spark in his eye, the same curve of his lips. You catch him smiling for a second, and his cheeks still puff up like dough. Maybe it’s just hopeless thinking, but you see him. It’s still him. To you, he will always be your 18-year-old Min Yoongi, the one who would greet you with a sweet kiss on the forehead every time you would—

Raucous applause breaks you from your train of thought, and you blink rapidly in surprise. You have to forcibly pull yourself out of your Yoongi-induced trance, clapping alongside everyone without really knowing what was going on. All of the extra noise sounds like buzzing in your ears, especially when it is drowned out by the roar of your blood rushing to your head all at once.

“Once again, I’d like to thank you all for coming tonight. We will begin the program right after dinner, so please feel free to help yourselves to the buffet! Cheers everyone!” You faintly hear your old schoolmate speak, before her voice is quickly overrun by the commotion of people walking over to the extravagant display of food. It takes a moment for the crowd of heads to disperse, so when you can finally look back to where you last saw Yoongi, he is no longer alone.

Hoseok has his arm slung around Yoongi, his infectious laughter loud enough to be heard over clinking plates and silverware. The two are as different as night and day, with Hoseok practically bouncing from excitement and Yoongi rolling his eyes from annoyance. But it is easy to see that his pout is nothing but a ruse; you can already catch the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips.

You feel your own seams breaking, unwittingly sporting a grin of your own. It is nice to know that Yoongi hasn’t been alone all this time, that he still seems close with his old best friend. You cannot count the number of friendships that you have lost over time, and you still grieve many of them during your quiet moments. Alas, it was often never even anyone’s fault, the strains of adulthood often being the biggest deal breakers in your relationships.

That is, of course, except for one.

“Enjoying yourself? I didn’t think we’d share the same voyeuristic tendencies,” says a voice, creeping up behind you. Now, normal people would not usually expect other sane people to invade your personal space and breathe directly into your ear, but that’s just your humble opinion. What you do know is that one certain individual enjoys breaking the mold when it comes to societal norms, and it is none other than…

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You shriek, nearly sucker-punching the offending degenerate in the face. You hold back your fist from connecting with his face, but your resulting irritation remains. Whether that irritation is because you regret holding back or not will unfortunately also have to remain unanswered. “Oh God, it’s you.”

“Oh, no need for that. Most people usually call me Seokjin,” he snickers, thoroughly enjoying your flushed face. Kim Seokjin pats you on the shoulder, his trademark “pretty boy” smile still as radiant as you remembered. It does nothing to quell your urge to raise your fists again, however. “Hello, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here!”

“The feeling is not mutual,” you snort. Much like how Yoongi was with Hoseok, your derision is nothing but a rouse. As much as you want to kick Seokjin in the nuts, you also cannot ignore how much you want to hug him the slimy bastard—but you definitely will not be the first one to admit it. So like the tsundere that you are, you decide to insult him instead. “Why are you here? You’re not even from this class. Don’t you have other things to do? Or rather, people to do?”

“My heart! You wound me,” he gasps, grasping his chest as though he’d been shot. “How could you say that to your best friend in the entire world? Don’t you know how much I missed you?”

“Easy. I do it because the only other alternative would lead me straight to prison,” you shrug, but your grin betrays you.

This time, you don’t jolt away when he closes in for a hug. “And I guess I miss you too,” you say, your words slightly muffled into his chest. Like always, he sees through your prickly act because as much as you like to pretend, Kim Seokjin is kind of amazing—loose bolts and all.

“It’s nice to know that your tongue hasn’t lost its edge, though I suppose I wouldn’t be intimately knowledgeable in that area. After all, I still am very much a raging homosexual and pussy isn’t really my forte,” Seokjin guffaws, his volume causing a few nearby guests to raise their heads in alarm.

You bow at them, sheepishly apologizing on his behalf before grabbing him by the collar.

“Will you stop being embarrassing for just one second? I swear, I thought I retired from my babysitting job when I graduated high school,” you hiss, but the way his mouth curls up with mischief is answer enough. God, you missed this son of a bitch.

“Unfortunately for you, being a pest is part of my DNA,” he smirks, carefully plucking your hands off from his neck, as though your nails were not mere inches away from ripping his trachea into pieces. “Though, I am offended by your assumption that I am still the same slut that you knew. I’ve grown up a little, you know! I’m a changed man!”

“Oh, please. Don’t tell me you of all people have settled down,” you laugh, not missing the way Seokjin’s perfectly stenciled brow raises slightly.

“I know we haven’t seen each other since Christmas, but come on Y/N! You of all people should be applauding me for my improved behavior! You must have noticed how much I changed when I visited.”

“When you visited me last Christmas, you immediately insulted my taste in kitchen towels, went on Grindr to find a hookup despite my numerous pleas, and promptly desecrated my guest bedroom that no housekeeper or priest is willing to exorcise to this day,” you gag, shuddering at the memory. “And then you ate all my ice cream and proceeded to clog my toilet!”

“Um? Aren’t you forgetting that I also bought you that dress you wanted? Rude,” Seokjin retorts, not the least bit remorseful. “Well, that’s what you get for agreeing to be my best bitch for life. You know that I take pinky promises very seriously.”

Unfortunately, he does take his promises seriously. It is probably the only thing he’ll ever be serious about, as much as the man enjoys parading his depravity. “Okay, whatever. I’ll bite. Who’s the unlucky man you’ve managed to deceive into a relationship?”

“Oh, it’s someone we both used to know. I’m his plus one for tonight,” he says, supplying you with the most useless non-answer imaginable.

“Seokjin. We’re at a high school reunion. We know everyone here. That could be anyone!” you exclaim.

“Well, isn’t that fun? Then we can do a scavenger hunt!” Seokjin grins, clapping his hands together excitedly. He pulls you in front of him, forcing the two of you to survey the crowd. “Okay, hold your arm out like this—” After a few seconds of you failing to resist him, he manages to get you to unfurl your finger as if you were about to order something from the dollar menu at McDonalds. Unfortunately for you, the tall twink is stronger than he appears. “—and just keep pointing around until I tell you that you’re getting warmer!”

“Seokjin, I don’t think this is very—” you start, but Seokjin is already moving your arm for you. Like a hurricane, Kim Seokjin listens to no one but his own homewrecking whims.

“Park Chanyeol? Close, but not really. You should know that I don’t double dip with past flings,” he says, shifting you to the left. “Kim Namjoon? Now that’s a hunk of meat that I wish I’d taken a bite of, but unfortunately he’s as straight as a ruler. Pass,” he hums, continuing to move you bit by bit.

You’re both getting uncomfortably close to where Yoongi is, and Seokjin doesn’t appear to be stopping any time soon. You did notice that Yoongi had come dateless to the reunion (a fact, by the way, that you did not rejoice over when you had noticed), but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s single. You have known Seokjin for more than a decade at this point, and despite your odd friendship, you are sure that he would never do anything to hurt you on purpose.

Though, that does beg the question… How far does his dick thirst really go? Maybe you’ll finally find out today.

“Warmer, getting warmer…” Seokjin inches you closer and closer to where Yoongi is standing. You feel frozen in his grasp, unsure if you wanted to know anymore. If Seokjin really is dating Yoongi, then what? It’s not like you were dating him anyway… What difference does it make if it’s Seokjin?

(It makes all the difference, but you refuse to think about it.)

“Nope, not Wonho... A little bit to the left… Bingo!” Seokjin declares, stopping your finger right on— “No, Y/N! Stop moving! You’ve gone too far to the wall! I was pointing at him.”

“H-Hoseok? You’re dating Hoseok?!” You squeak, an avalanche of relief flooding through you. You don’t even have the energy to pretend to be composed as your entire body starts untensing involuntarily, your shoulders slumping as though a weight has been lifted from you. “Why couldn’t you have just told me like a normal person? Why must everything be tortuous and dramatic when it comes to you?”

“I am a naturally insufferable and theatrical person. Sue me,” he shrugs, greatly enjoying the exhausted look on your face. “What? Were you actually scared that I was dating your sloppy seconds? What do you think I am? An asshole?”

You stare at him. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

Seokjin scoffs. “If I wanted to get roasted, I would approach two tops at a gay bar.” He pauses. “Wait, are you seriously not going to congratulate me for finally snagging a boy who has a functioning moral compass?”

“Define ‘snagging.’ Did you, like, tie him up and blackmail him to become your boyfriend like those terrible One Direction Wattpad fanfics, or—” You stop halfway, giggling at your friend’s unamused pout. “Okay, okay. Yes, Seokjin. I am very proud of you. Congrats on finally becoming an adult. Your hoe days are over.”

“Who said they were over?” He snorts. Noticing your alarm, Seokjin rolls his eyes in exasperation. “Oh, don’t give me that look! I’m not into infidelity and you know that. I just meant that I’m still a hoe with significantly fewer options.”

“How did that even happen in the first place?” you say, jabbing your thumb in Hoseok’s direction. Thankfully, the man in question is still busy talking to Yoongi, though you don’t know for how much longer. If Seokjin isn’t lying, then there’s a high chance they’re going to walk over to say hi and you’re not sure if you’re mentally prepared to go through the five stages of grief all over again.

“Believe me, I’m surprised as well. I started dating Hoseok after he asked me for help with his sister’s wedding gift. He asked me to help arrange an itinerary for her sister’s honeymoon in America,” Seokjin explains with a dreamy smile. He sighs, holding a hand up to his chest. You can physically see the heart emojis circling his head like a halo. “We hit it off from there and dare I say… Not only is he the only person who can keep up with my high maintenance lifestyle, but dear Lord, he could totally be recruited into the NDA for his astounding dick game—”

“Ever heard of TMI? Gross,” you interrupt, your face crumpling in disgust. You shove him away when his loud cackles start rattling your eardrums.

“You were scared though, right?” he says through his giggles. “When you thought that I was dating Yoongi?”

Of course Seokjin had noticed your mini-mental breakdown, judging from the shit-eating grin on his face.

“N-no,” you stutter, but your heated cheeks and averted gaze give you away. “E-either way, I wouldn’t have cared if you did!” you say. You know, like a liar.

“I bet you don’t care that Yoongi got significantly hotter in the past ten years too, huh?” Seokjin teases, snickering loudly. Under the harsh lighting of the fluorescent chandelier lights, you might have mistaken the boy in front of you for the devil instead of your best friend of almost twenty years.

“I sincerely rue the day I introduced myself to you in the third grade,” you hiss, sipping from your cup to hide your humiliation.

“Aww, you’re so cute when you’re all embarrassed,” Seokjin coos, pinching your cheeks with the gentleness of an ape. You slap his hand away, unable to think of any retort.

“Cat got your tongue? You didn’t even deny it when I accused you,” Seokjin laughs. He claps his hands jovially, acting as though he’s enjoying a show at the circus. Given your performance tonight, that statement isn’t all that far from reality.

“I don’t need to defend myself from you,” you say, puffing your cheeks indignantly. “I just… think he looks handsome. Is that illegal or something?”

“Certainly not. Though, you might want to dial down the pining a teensy bit,” he singsongs. “That’s how I found you in the first place. I sensed your pining from a mile away and came as soon as I could!”

“I wasn’t pining!” you exclaim. “I was just… admiring the plant beside him.”

“Right, sure,” Seokjin says, arching an eyebrow in challenge. You feel your hackles rising at his smug expression, your ‘Seokjin-is-about-to-ruin-your-life’ alarm ringing in your ears. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I brought you over there to say hello? After all, my boyfriend is over there and as much as I enjoy pestering you, I also want to be with him very much.”

You whistle lowly, impressed. “Wow, that’s actually kind of sweet of you.”

“Yes, I know. Kim Seokjin’s heart grew three sizes that day, yada yada yada.” Seokjin says sarcastically, but his lovesick smile ruins the effect. When he opens his mouth once more, the mirage instantly disappears. “But you would understand if you saw how much he’s packing—”

“Shut up, I didn’t ask—”

“Fine, then let’s ask the man himself! Besides, you know you’re being ridiculous, right?” Seokjin tuts, annoyed. He fixes you with a glare, making you feel like a scolded child. “It’s just Yoongi. You and I both know he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body and probably would love to see you after so long.”

You wave your hands around helplessly, almost sloshing your drink onto a nearby bystander. After muttering a meek apology at your harried classmate, you turn back to Seokjin with a defeated sigh.

You know that he’s right, and you absolutely hate him for it. “Jinnie, I’m a mess! I can hardly think with Yoongi standing meters away from me, much less if he were to stand right in front of me! I’m just going to embarrass myself,” you lament, holding your head in your hand.

“That’s true. You will definitely embarrass yourself,” Seokjin hums, nodding sagely. He shrugs his shoulders. “All the more reason we should do it. Relax, I’ll be your wingman like old times! All we have to do is remind him of all the fantastic, mind-blowing coitus you had in your youth and he’ll be a goner for sure.”

“If by goner, you mean he’ll be gone from my life permanently this time, then you’re right,” you groan. You have a half a mind to dump the remainder of your disgusting punch all over his expensive Bottega Veneta coat, though you also don’t want to spend the next three months receiving packaged turds from Seokjin in your mailbox. “Please, just let me suffer in silence for the remainder of the night, okay? Is that really too much to ask?”

“Oh come on! Just go say hi to him already,” Seokjin huffs. He wiggles his eyebrows, striking you with the urge to shave them off in retaliation. “I could feel your ‘God, I miss his dick’ vibes from across the room!”

“I do not emit dick thirst vibes,” you respond hotly, swatting him in the tit. You pause, considering. “Wait, but do you think he misses my p—”

“Say no more,” Seokjin interrupts, a wicked smirk gracing his lips. His gaze is fixed somewhere behind you, but you have a sinking suspicion you know why he looks like he’s won the lottery. “Speaking of the devil, look of who’s coming over to say hello!”

Swiveling around, you see that your intuition is right: Yoongi and Hoseok are swiftly making their way through the crowd, one of them appearing to be more enthusiastic than the other. You swallow thickly, your palms growing damp as they get closer to where the two of you stand.

"Seokjin, we gotta go!" you hiss, but your panic goes largely ignored as your best friend leaves you to envelop his lover in a dramatic embrace.

The two men exchange teary and heartfelt touches, acting as if they had been separated by years of war instead of the meager minutes they had spent apart to greet their long-time friends.

"My honeybunch! Oh, how I've missed you so much!" Seokjin cries, nuzzling his nose into Hoseok's neck. You might have mistaken him for a vampire with how aggressively he sniffs Hoseok's skin. Had Seokjin been 5% more unhinged, you do not doubt that he might have started suckling on his boyfriend like a leech.

"Oh, hyung. It's barely been an hour, but why does it feel like it has been forever?" Hoseok sighs forlornly, jaw clenching as though he's in pain. He croaks out a sob, lifting Seokjin in the air and spinning him around. "My love, let us never part again!"

You take a few steps away from them, trying to make it apparent to all the bewildered onlookers that you have nothing to do with homosexual Tweedledee and Tweedledum.

"What kind of shitty production is this? I want my money back," you murmur, fake-gagging behind the two of them. The lovesick fools pay no mind to your disgust; in fact, they seem to relish in it. Their efforts double, their theatrical kissy-smoochy sound effects causing goosebumps to form on your arms. "Seriously, I've had enough of this and I've only been forced to witness it for two seconds."

"Tell me about it," says a voice to your left. Startled, you nearly let out a shocked gasp when you realize that Yoongi had found his way by your side, his own disgusted gaze fixed on the bumbling buffoons still lost in their world. He glances at you for a second, quirking his lips into a small smile. "Hey, Y/N."

In just six words, Min Yoongi manages to make time grind to a halt. You gape at him, your brain ceasing in function. It takes you a full minute to realize that the man standing beside you is not a figment of your imagination. You had been so caught up in the absurdity of the situation that for a moment you had forgotten that Yoongi is a real person.

It's Yoongi, your first love. The person you haven't seen or spoken to in years. The man who has haunted your dreams for over a decade. He's standing right beside you, and he's smiling at you. He's here, he's hot, and he's saying hello.

Like the incredibly eloquent and profound person that you are, you reply: "Yellow!"

You had meant to say "Yoongi, hello!" like a normal person, but your brain had amalgamated your words during its rebooting process. And so, you are left standing there silently, frozen by your embarrassment. You swear you can hear a pin drop as you beg for the earth to swallow you whole.

Unfortunately for you, the floor remains painfully tangible beneath your feet, forcing you to clear your throat and expound on your mystifying exclamation. Yoongi watches you with curious eyes, patiently waiting for you to speak.

"W-what I meant to say is, uh," you stammer, your cheeks heating up to an alarming degree. "Those yellow streamers are pretty tacky, don't you think?"

Nice one. In terms of comebacks, you would personally give yourself a C for effort. (Note: C stands for "Can I please shove a fist up my ass and crabwalk the fuck out of here?")

Yoongi contemplates the tacky decorations in question, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I guess. They pretty much look like the stuff we'd make in elementary school during Arts and Crafts." He points to your mutual friends, grimacing in annoyance. "Them, on the other hand? No child should ever come into contact with those heathens."

"You're right," you snort, shaking your head.

There is a long and awkward pause. Yoongi clears his throat, swaying from side to side while staring at his shoes. You aren't any better, twiddling your thumbs as you will your cheeks to stop flushing. Your senses are practically screaming at you to run away and hide forever, but your limbs feel disjointed from the rest of you.

It's like we're at the zoo on a date and the monkeys won't stop fucking each other, your mind unhelpfully supplies, offering you an image that will permanently make its home on the backs of your eyelids.

Desperate to break the silence, eventually you say, "Hey, Yoongi—"

Right at the same time, Yoongi says, "Hey, Y/N—"

Another pause, but this one is slightly less tense. The two of you share a nervous laugh, though yours sounds a little bit more hysterical. You motion for him to speak first.

"I, uh... wanted to say that you look great. Yeah. Like, you haven't aged a day at all. N-not to say that I don't think you've matured or..." Yoongi stumbles over his words, his voice cracking.

Instead of feeling relieved that he's just as nervous as you, his anxiety only exacerbates your own. There's a reason you have never been good at public speaking, and this is a good example of why:

"No! I get what you mean, don't worry about it," you laugh, on the verge of a mental breakdown. What the fuck is this conversation, even? "You look exactly the same too. Umm... Of course, except for the, uh, hair?"

"Oh, you mean the gray hairs?"

"No, no! Of course not! I m-meant your hair looks really hot—I mean good! It looks GOOD," you repeat, frantically emphasizing the last bit. You had instinctively panicked, your voice rising in pitch.  If your cheeks weren't flaming hot already, then they're definitely redder than Seokjin's ass after a Friday night of fun.

The apples of Yoongi's cheek match your own flustered state, though you can imagine that you’re probably at least a hundred times worse. “Well, thank you. I was actually feeling self-conscious about my hair, so hearing that from you is really… nice,” he says, brushing his hair shyly. “I’m kinda done with bright colored hair for now, so seeing my hair in its natural state is still kind of weird.”

“I seriously doubt that Y/N was talking about your hair color, Yoongi,” Hoseok interjects, magically reappearing behind you when you don’t notice. You flinch in surprise, causing him to let out a hearty chuckle at your jumpiness. It seems that today is “Let’s scare the living shit out of Y/N” day with how many people have crept up on you in just one night.

Beside him, Seokjin looks like a bomb ready to explode, his fist jammed up his mouth to keep his guffaws from slipping out. “God, this is even better than the cringe compilations I watch on Youtube,” he wheezes, wiping a stray tear.

“Don’t be so mean to them, hyung! Don’t mind him,” Hoseok says to you, bowing apologetically. He smiles cherubically at Yoongi. “See, Yoongi? I told you that Y/N is even hotter up close!”

“God, fucking kill me,” you hear Yoongi groan.

“So, have you guys caught up yet, or have you just been fumbling around each other like a couple of horny teenagers?” Seokjin snickers, narrowly avoiding your heel stomping his foot.

“We’ve only just said hello. Leave us alone, jackass,” you huff.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Well, Hoseok and I can go on our merry ways if you wish—”

“Yoongi! Did you tell Y/N about your work back in Seoul? I bet she’d love to hear about it,” Hoseok interrupts smoothly, saving you from further embarrassment (courtesy of his infuriating goblin of a boyfriend.)

You blink in surprise, turning to the man in question. “You live in Seoul now? Did you move there after finishing university?” you ask.

“Well,” Yoongi starts, clearing his throat. He’s permanently pink at this point, not that you mind in the slightest. He always did have the cutest blush (and once upon a time, you used to love teasing him about it.) “I sort of dropped out of university early. Decided it wasn’t really my thing, you know?”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Yoongi. You were a fantastic student. I’m sure Y/N remembers how smart you are,” Hoseok says, winking inconspicuously at you.

You force out a laugh in response. You know perfectly well what he was trying to do; Hoseok isn’t slick in the slightest, though you do admit that you are intrigued to find out what Yoongi had done over the years.

It isn’t like you haven’t been keeping tabs on him. In your defense, it’s hard to stay away from news about Yoongi when he’s such a big deal. So what if you’ve watched a couple of his interviews and streamed all of his songs? He’s always been talented with music, and all the radio shows seem to agree. You couldn’t get away from him if you tried (and it’s not like you were trying very hard, anyway.)

Yoongi shrugs, rubbing his neck bashfully. “E-either way, I decided to tough it out, you know? Follow my dreams and all that, even if it nearly killed me.”

“And now, he’s working in a famous idol company as one of their head producers,” Hoseok finishes for him, chest puffing up in pride. He slaps his best friend on the back, not noticing that he had inadvertently caused Yoongi's spine to cave in from his strength. “Yoongi is so cool, and humble too! He’s been working behind the scenes for a bunch of big names and never got greedy for attention even though he totally deserves it.”

“Damn, so no street cred? Bit schewpid, innit? Imagine all the chicks you could’ve landed, bruv!” Seokjin says, imitating a terrible British accent. You make a move to hit him in the groin, but for once, Hoseok beats you to the punch.

“Nope! Yoongi-chi is super single, aren’t you?” Hoseok says with a sweet grin, ignoring the pained groans of his lover on the floor.

“No need to rub it in, Seok-ah,” Yoongi grumbles defensively. He coughs into his fist, grinding his foot into the floor. He throws a glance your way. “Just been… too busy, I guess.”

From the floor, Seokjin holds up a hand, grasping at Hoseok’s pant leg to hoist himself up. “What a coincidence. Y/N is super single too. In fact, her pussy is so dry that there’d be no chance for any yeast infections to develop—WAIT, DON’T HIT ME AGAIN I PROMISE I’LL BEHAVE!” Seokjin is on his knees, holding his arms up in surrender as Hoseok’s boot is about to connect with his stomach.

“I know I said I was into BDSM, but not like this!” Seokjin says, faking a sob.

“Then behave, darling,” Hoseok replies, eyes lighting dangerously. When he returns his attention to you, you and Yoongi back away instinctively. “Sorry about him. We have an… arrangement,” he says, waving his hands vaguely.

“Understood,” you both say, not understanding but also not wanting to.

Seokjin manages to straighten up eventually, his skin slightly paler than it was before. “A-as I was saying,” he exhales, still gingerly cupping his crotch. “Y/N has been single for so long, but I don’t blame her. Not after that awful disaster of a boyfriend, right? God, Sungjae fucking sucked ass, and not even in the sexy way.”

“Um, yeah…” you say hesitantly, avoiding eye contact. You can feel Hoseok’s and Yoongi’s eyes trained on you, but you’re not confident enough to know that you can keep your face neutral.

With your gaze averted, you don’t notice the way Yoongi’s posture tenses. “Is that so,” he says carefully.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Hoseok says. You can hear the genuine sadness in his tone, and you chance a peek at him. He pats your shoulder gently, giving you a soft smile. “Honestly, I feel you. I’ve definitely been there, done that. That’s why I’m grateful for Seokjin-hyung, believe it or not. He’s been really good for me.”

“Hah, I told you I’m a good person!” Seokjin says. Again, he goes ignored.

“It’s fine. It’s all water under the bridge,” you say, shrugging. You can still feel Yoongi’s persistent gaze on the side of your head like a brand. You’re kind of afraid to see what sort of expression he has despite the curiosity burning inside of you.

You are still in the middle of debating if it’s worth explaining or not (and to a lesser extent, why you feel like you need to explain yourself to anyone), everyone’s attention is caught by the onslaught of waiters bringing in a fresh batch of food to the buffet. Your stomach growls in response, and you are reminded of the fact that you haven’t eaten since breakfast in preparation for tonight’s event.

“Hold that thought, Y/N,” Hoseok says, holding up a finger. “Hyung! I saw a platter of tuna belly and I know that shit is gonna disappear in two seconds. Let’s head out!” He tugs Seokjin in a hurry, the elder’s gangly legs flying about as he trips over himself to keep up. Seokjin yelps and hollers for him to slow down, but the hangry Hoseok train stops for no one. They run off, leaving Hoseok-and-Seokjin-shaped dust clouds in their wakes.

“Wow,” Yoongi says, dumbfounded. “Did we just get ditched by our two self-proclaimed best friends in the world?”

You nod, equally dumbfounded. “I guess we did.”

He shakes his head. “Fucking traitors.”

And just like that, the conversation dies.

Without your friends acting as buffers, the pair of you return to your painfully awkward states. You rack your brain for a conversation topic, anything to keep the tension at bay. You don’t feel nearly comfortable enough to ask him about his love life, even though you want nothing more than to shake the details right out of him. For perfectly sane reasons, of course.

Lucky for you, Yoongi thinks of a solution. “Um, I guess we should go grab our food as well? I’m assuming we’ll be sitting together since our friends are... you know. Unless you don’t want to, then that’s also perfectly fine with me. I can find somewhere else to sit.”

“I’d love to sit with you,” you say, cringing at your choice of words. Love to? What are you, desperate?! your brain screeches at you, and you mentally beat yourself in the coochie.

Deep down, you know that you’re overreacting, but you can’t help acting like a blushy teenager talking to your crush when you’re around Yoongi. It’s almost as if you’ve reverted to your high school days, back when you’d both started to notice your feelings for each other and the steady flow of butterflies erupting in your stomach had felt less like a burden and more like a revelation.

After tossing your disgusting drink into a nearby bin, you and Yoongi line up behind the rest of your classmates for the buffet, the scene reminiscent of having lunch at your old high school cafeteria. You’re still mildly distracted by Yoongi’s proximity, not looking at what food you were getting and randomly scooping and hoping you don’t dislike all of them.

From the corner of your eye, you notice that Yoongi’s plate is steadily piling up, probably with enough food to feed two people. You’ve never known Yoongi to be much of a heavy eater, but you suppose that free food is still free food at the end of the day.

“So,” Yoongi says after a beat. He pulls you from your trance, and you catch the small smile on his face that tells you that he figured you had been distracted. “How is Jungkook, by the way? He graduated from university a year ago or something, right?”

You pause, your hand stilling on the metal tongs. “How did you know he graduated last year?”

He shrugs. “Well, assuming that he didn’t take any gap years, I did the math and figured he should be at the age where he’s looking for a job.” He turns to you with a sly grin. “Plus, I’m still his friend on Facebook.”

“That’s surprising,” you comment. You backtrack a little, “And I mean it’s surprising in the sense that… All his posts are reshares from dank meme pages and I thought you wouldn’t be into that.”

Yoongi laughs. “I’m not. But… it’s nice to know how things are back home, I guess.”

Do you wonder about me, too? you think, but you internally shake your head. But why would he? He doesn’t owe you anything.

“And your dad? I heard he got hip surgery last fall,” Yoongi says.

“Wait, Jungkook has been posting about our dad’s surgery on his Facebook?”

“Oh! No, not exactly.” Yoongi clears his throat, suddenly nervous. He heaps a big portion of kimchi, some of it staining his sleeve. “I… called him a few days ago, to catch up.”

You’re staring at him, and you dimly register the people lined up behind you huffing impatiently. “You… called him? You have his cell number, too?”

“No, I just… happen to still have your home telephone number memorized and hoped that you guys hadn’t moved,” he says, a little guiltily.

You’re silent for a moment, thoughtlessly scooping more bean sprouts onto your plate than any sane person would be comfortable eating. The two of you inch along the buffet display as you attempt to process his sudden confession.

On one hand, you’re slightly betrayed that your own brother hadn’t thought to mention that your ex had called him, but on the other hand, what would you have done if he did? Ask if you could say hello? The Y/N from last month probably would have laughed if she had known that Min Yoongi still cared enough to call and check on her family, much less have her landline memorized even after all these years.

He still cared.

Unbeknownst to everyone in the room, your heart skips a beat at the thought. You cradle a hand to your chest, urging your nerves to quell. Keep it together, you beg your stupid, naive heart. You can survive one night without falling in love again, can’t you?

...can you?

“I…” you stammer. You swallow thickly, desperate for something to say, anything to stop your mind from going in the wrong direction. “They miss you, you know? You have no idea how many times my parents ask if you’re coming home for Christmas, or—I don’t know.”

“Yeah, my parents are the same. They always wanna know if I’m coming home for the holidays, and they,” he hesitates, swallowing thickly, “They always ask about you, too.”

Oh.

“Oh,” you mutter lamely. Your cheeks feel like they’ve been lit on fire the moment you got here, and you haven’t even visited the bar yet.

You finally make it to the end of the long buffet table where there is a large chocolate fountain just begging for you to ravage if only your stomach wasn’t besieged by butterflies. Yoongi glances at you, his own hands too full to get any desserts, but he still pauses as if he’s waiting for you. When you make it apparent you aren’t interested in the mouthwatering cakes and pastries (a big fat lie, but you also don’t want to vomit in front of him and your hundreds of schoolmates), he raises a brow as though he’s surprised.

“What? I’m not that much of a sweet tooth,” you scoff.

“This is coming from the girl who broke into her little brother’s piggy bank to buy some ice cream from a passing street vendor?” he teases.

“That’s the old me. Now, I make enough money to buy my own sweets,” you say smugly.

He rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say.” If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought he looked endeared.

The pair of you search for Hoseok and Seokjin, only to find that the couple had somehow found a table for all of you somewhere near the back. With one last longing glance at the wondrous chocolate fountain, you walk away with Yoongi in tow. You have to push through throngs of people, a few old familiar faces stopping to say hello before they notice the precarious situation on Yoongi’s plate and let you through. You wave at them, promising to greet them later before turning to Yoongi.

“Isn’t it kind of weird to see all these people again? Not gonna lie, it’s almost hard to recognize a few of them.” You note some of the crazy hair colors and drastic fashion choices that you never thought you’d see a decade ago. An even stranger sight, however, is the occasional schoolmates with little ones attached to their hips. You recognize one of the new parents, your mouth dropping in shock.

“Wait, is that Seulgi? And is that her—”

“Her son? Jesus Christ,” Yoongi mutters, equally as bewildered as you. “Damn, I did not expect her of all people to be one of the first to have a kid. I’d always thought it’d be Sooyoung.”

You nod in agreement. You observe the little boy tug roughly at her skirt, his tiny fists making grabbing motions at the cookies on her plate. “Yeah. I always thought I’d have a kid before Seulgi, at least. What a surprise.”

You speak before you think, and it takes longer than it should have for you to realize your mistake. By then, Yoongi’s expression had already morphed into astonishment, his eyes bugging out as he chokes on his spit.

Your cheeks are burning, your mouth opening and closing as pure panic seizes you. You cannot believe that you just said that! No fucking way! Did you eat lube this morning or something? Why are words just spilling out of your mouth at an unprecedented rate?! You’re begging your brain to come up with something, anything, to control the damage, but alas your thoughts remain resolutely frozen.

If aliens were to choose to study the human race right now, they’d be sorely disappointed to find the lack of intelligent lifeforms. No complex thoughts going on over here! Not one goddamn neuron firing in this bitch!

“O-oh, well, that’s…” he trails off. He clears his throat, his jaw clenched as he awkwardly tries to feign composure. “I didn’t know you were, um, interested? Well, n-not that I think you were averse to the idea of having kids, since I remember you mentioning it when we were, um,” he pauses, struggling to find a word other than dating, or together, or in love, or not painstakingly careful around each other, like every conversation topic was a fucking minefield.

“Younger?” you supply. A safe, neutral word. Yay for you! You deserve a snack from your animal care keeper right about now.

“Right,” he nods. He looks down at his shoes, revealing his flushed neck. He’s frustratingly adorable like this, but it does nothing except distract you. “Were you, um, planning on having a kid with your ex-boyfriend? Before you broke up?”

Ex-boyfriend? Why is he bringing him up all of a sudden? You stare at him in confusion for half a second before realization strikes you. Thankfully (or unthankfully), it seems that Yoongi misunderstands the implication behind your words and has taken your little slip-up the wrong way. For once, you are so thankful that Yoongi almost failed Math during the 10th grade and never learned to put two and two together.

“Definitely not,” you bark out a laugh, but it sounds incredibly forced, even to your own ears. You stare at the plate of food in your hands, a wave of unpleasant memories washing over you. “I doubt he’d ever want kids, anyway. Seokjin used to make fun of him and call him the world’s biggest toddler.”

Yoongi winces, his brow furrowing. “How long were you together?”

“Like, two years?” You shrug. “It felt longer, to be honest. Even if we dated for so long, I could never imagine myself having a family with him,” you say.

It was almost the truth, but not quite. While your ex-boyfriend had undoubtedly been a pain in your ass, he wasn’t completely bad, especially in the beginning. You had enough self-respect that you would have ended the relationship earlier if he didn’t have any redeeming qualities. The main problem was that he had a tough act to follow, and you don’t think any man on earth would be able to live up to your lofty expectations at this point, not when you’d constantly be comparing everyone to—

Yoongi speaks up again. “Seokjin seems to really dislike him. Was he really that bad?”

“Seokjin has never really liked any of my past flings,” you admit, rolling your eyes. (You fail to mention that Yoongi has always been the only exception.) “Despite his own disgustingly high body count, I can’t say he was wrong. Sungjae was a self-centered prick who never gave me the time of day. Hell, I was almost thankful when I caught him cheating. It was the final push I needed.”

Even though it’s been so long, the pain of seeing your ex-boyfriend locking lips with a stranger he had randomly picked up from the street still throbs inside of you. It wasn’t like you were particularly sad or surprised to find out, but you’d always been a bit sensitive to people who kept secrets from you. Plus, it kinda sucked to know that they had fucked on your favorite Egyptian cotton sheets.

“Fucking bastard. If I ever saw him in person, I’d definitely kick his nuts ‘til he’s left with a concave crotch,” he seethes, eyes narrowing.

You laugh. You have to confess that the mental image is satisfying. “You don’t even know what he looks like though!”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m sure Seokjin would tell me if I asked,” he huffs. He mutters something else after, but his volume drops to a whisper and you have to step closer to properly hear him.

“What? Sorry, I missed that,” you say, but you could have sworn he said something like “I wouldn’t have done that if it were me” but you couldn’t be completely sure.

“N-nothing,” he stutters, waving off your confusion. He tacks on a smile, but you can tell that he must have been embarrassed by whatever he’d said. If it was anything like what you thought he’d said, then you could understand. It wasn’t like he was wrong, anyway.

He makes a move to rub the back of his neck, but he greatly underestimates the weight of his platter and nearly drops everything. Something deep inside of you kicks in, and your body instinctively moves to hold his plate with your free hand, saving him from a very messy situation. However, that also means that your hands are now touching each other, your fingertips grazing his knuckles.

Instead of letting him go like a normal person, your ape brain makes the first move (as per usual).

“Your hands are still cold,” you say dumbly. You had wanted to say more, like “your hands are still as cold as they were from when we were younger,” but bringing up your past together, even for something so harmless, still feels taboo. You keep your hands where they are, your eyes locked on his. It feels like you’re in the middle of a dramatic TV show while I Will Go To You by Ailee plays in the background. You can almost imagine the numerous ads for random Korean cosmetic products framing the two of you in slow motion.

Yoongi chuckles, reluctantly pulling away from you. You already miss the sensation of his skin on yours. “I guess some things never change, huh?” he says, wavering slightly. He stares at you for another moment before shaking his head, as though he’s pushing away some unwelcome thoughts. He turns away, leaving you behind to make his way to your table.

Despite the unbidden emotions bubbling up your throat and threatening to spill over, you have no choice but to follow.

At the table, Seokjin and Hoseok speak mutely with each other, though the exaggerated expressions on both their faces tell you that they had been in the middle of an argument. When Yoongi takes his place beside Hoseok, the couple pauses in their bickering to greet you.

Hoseok looks at Yoongi’s overflowing plate. “Dude. I know I teased you about being a skinny twig a while ago, but I wasn’t implying that you gorge yourself.”

Yoongi jolts in surprise before staring back at his plate. Weirdly enough, he looks just as shocked as Hoseok to find the amount of food he had gotten, as though he hadn’t even noticed.

Perhaps he was just as distracted as you had been? you think, staring at your own meager pickings. Oops, you definitely didn’t get enough food to fill your ravenous appetite.

“That’s fine. I can share with you guys,” Yoongi says.

Seokjin peers at your plate, smirking knowingly. “Oh, yes. I’m sure Y/N would love to get some of your food. It seems like the two of you either over or underestimated how much you’d eat.”

“Aww, cute!” Hoseok coos, pinching Yoongi’s cheek. “You still have the habit of getting food for her. That’s so sweet that you still remember that about her!”

You had been in the middle of taking a swig of your water, but Hoseok’s comment nearly causes it to spew out from your nose. You cough harshly, beating your chest as your nose burns, among other things.

“Hoseok!” Yoongi scolds. He hits his friend on the shoulder, but Hoseok’s giggles refuse to stop.

“Oh shit, you’re totally right! Remember all those times when either one of us was forced to third-wheel with them?” Seokjin guffaws. “Y/N always orders something gross whenever we eat out together, and Yoongi ends up having to share half of his food with her when she starts moping.”

“I did not mope!” you retort vehemently.

“You kind of did,” Yoongi mutters under his breath, but you catch him this time.

You cross your arms, scowling. “Did not!”

Yoongi covers his mouth to fake a cough, but you can tell he’s smiling from how his eyes start to crinkle.

“You guys are so cute,” Hoseok sighs, squeezing Yoongi into a hug. Yoongi paws at him weakly, but you know that he enjoys skinship too much to push his friend away.  Still, he pouts cutely, his cheeks puffing up like a pastry.

“Anyway, why were you guys arguing a while ago?” Yoongi asks, changing the subject. “Seokjin-hyung is kinda red in the face.”

“Oh, we weren’t really arguing. Hyung had gotten some wine from the bar but he forgot to get me some,” Hoseok says. He glares sharply at Seokjin. “Bastard.”

“You just said we weren’t fighting!” Seokjin whines. He stands up, raising his arms in surrender. “But fine! I’ll go get your damn wine,” he sulks, groaning when he stretches his back and a few worrisome pops resound from his joints.

“Damn, hyung. I know I told you that I hope you grow up well when we were kids, but I didn’t think you’d take it that literally,” Yoongi jokes, earning a sharp laugh from you. Yoongi glances at you then, visibly proud when he catches the wide grin on your face.

Seokjin gasps, offended. “I am not old! I’m literally a year older than you guys! And here I was, about to get you both drinks as well! It sucks to be the nice one in a friend group,” he sniffs.

“Yes, we are eternally grateful for your service,” Hoseok says sarcastically. “Oh, and remember to get some drinks for Y/N and Yoongi-chi too!” Hoseok adds, slamming his palm on Seokjin’s sore back.

Seokjin yelps, before biting his lip. “Owwie, that hurt,” he moans, winking salaciously.

As the closest person to him, you make it your right to jam your heeled foot onto his gelatinous and push away with a shout of disgust. “Leave, wench!” you snarl, but you’re unfortunately drowned out by his cackling. Even so, he does make his leave, affording your table some level of peace.

“So,” Hoseok starts, a twinkle of mischief in his eye. He cradles his chin with his hands, smiling innocuously at the two of you. “How’s it goin’? Are you both having fun?” he says, laced with meaning.

Ah, you had forgotten; peace was never an option.

Though he is undoubtedly less annoying than Seokjin, you still don’t trust the way he’s staring at you, like he’s waiting for one of you to jump into the other’s lap and recreate his favorite porn scene.

(A terrible thought to have, especially when you’d probably be as begrudging as you should be if you were swayed sufficiently.)

“It’s going fine, thank you very much,” Yoongi responds, giving his best friend a stern look.

You nod wordlessly, unable to trust yourself to keep from stammering and making your frayed nerves apparent (if they aren’t already.) You grab your glass and busy yourself with your drink to delay answering.

You don’t notice that you had taken Yoongi’s cup by accident until you’ve already gulped a third of his water, dropping it with a loud clunk. “Oh shit, sorry! I didn’t mean to drink from yours,” you say sheepishly.

Yoongi smiles at your concern. “No worries. It’s just a cup.”

“Sharing cups too? Damn, what happened while Seokjin and I were away?” Hoseok laughs. Yoongi flicks him lightly on the wrist in retaliation.

“It’s just a cup,” he repeats before turning to you. “Sorry, I think he’s a bit drunk.”

“Haven’t had a single drop of alcohol but whatever,” Hoseok says, shoveling a large piece of tuna belly into his mouth.

The sight of him eating reminds you of your own hunger, your food slightly colder now after talking to Yoongi and your friends for so long. You take a spoonful of chicken, the taste not terrible but not as good as you would like. Your face must give your disappointment away because you hear Yoongi chuckling beside you.

“Bad food again? Guess you really are the same,” Yoongi says, low enough that Hoseok wouldn’t hear. He pushes his plate towards you, carefully nudging some of his bulgogi onto yours. “This tastes kind of sweet, so I’m not really into it. But you prefer it sweeter right?”

All you can do is nod in agreement, watching as he piles your plate with his food. His sleeves, which had already been stained previously by some stray bits of kimchi, become even more saturated with sauces and oils. Now that you see it up close, his sleeves seem a bit too long for him, his palms half covered like sweater paws.  

Without thinking too hard, you place your hands over Yoongi’s wrists, his entire body freezing as he waits for what you will do. Gently, as though you’re approaching a frightened kitten, you fold his sleeves until they’re no longer dangling into his food. The gesture is more intimate than you had intended, his proximity allowing you to smell the familiar fragrance of his cologne.

Paco Rabanne, your mind reminds you. Of course.

You pull away, trying your best to appear as unfazed as possible. You clench your hands and dig your nails into your skin to keep them from trembling. “If I’m the same, you’re no better. You always used to forget to pull back your sleeves before eating.”

After a beat, Yoongi returns from his stupor, licking his lips. “My hands were cold,” he explains.

“I know.” You lick your lips too, suddenly parched despite all the water you have drunk.

A forgotten treasure trove of memories resurrects inside of you, things that you had thought had been buried too deep for you to find again. You are filled with this odd feeling, an awareness. An old wound has resurfaced, one that you thought had healed long ago.

That wound throbs, still.

It’s so strange, being with him like this. A piece of your past that has come to your present, both the same and different as you remember. He knows parts of you that no one else will, as do you with him. But those parts were only ever supposed to stay buried: memories, after all, aren’t supposed to be tangible.

And yet, here he stands: real, alive, close.

It leaves you feeling emptier than before.

The atmosphere grows somber after that, neither of you offering much to the conversation. Hoseok is more than happy to pick up the slack, filling the stark silence along with the occasional hums from Yoongi. When Seokjin returns, he makes no note of the change in mood and focuses more on eating and talking with his partner. It allows the two of you to remain deep in thought.

You are pushing your remaining bits of food around your plate when the soft instrumental music playing on the overhead speaker stops abruptly, and the sound of a microphone being tapped prompts everyone to turn to the front of the ballroom. The host of the event announces that the next part of the reunion will begin shortly and encourages all the performers to head to the sound booth to prepare. A couple of your schoolmates rise from their seats, most of whom were the students you remembered being part of choir or band.

You half-expect Yoongi to stand up as well, but he stays rooted to the spot. Apparently, Hoseok is wondering the same thing.

“Yoongi? Didn’t you say that the organizers asked you to perform some of your songs?” Hoseok questions.

“They did.”

“But?”

Yoongi brings his fingers to his teeth, biting on them anxiously. Your hand makes a move to pull them away, but you think better of it. No need to supply your friends with more teasing ammunition. “But I changed my mind last minute. I felt kind of embarrassed to be performing my own songs. I’m more of a producer, not a performer.”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Yoongi. You’re poggers, as the kids like to say,” Seokjin pipes up.

“I wouldn’t put it like that, but he’s right. A lot of people like your music and think you’re a great performer,” you assure him. “And I like your music, too,” you add shyly.

Yoongi’s hand drops from his mouth, eyes glittering with disbelief. He looks like he wants to disagree with you, but eventually decides to just smile in gratitude. “I didn’t know you listened to my music,” he says quietly.

Before you can reply, Seokjin chooses to interrupt with his migraine-inducing cackle and ruin the moment (as he is prone to do.) “Oh bitch! If you only knew how much this girl loves your music. She even buys your physical CDs AND collects your photocards.”

“I do not!” You scream, flinging a piece of bread at his head. You refuse to peek at Yoongi.

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I collect his photocards too. Wanna trade sometime? I’m missing the one when he still had mint hair,” Hoseok giggles.

“Will the two of you stop? God, it’s like you both had been planning to embarrass us as much as possible,” Yoongi exclaims, incensed.

When neither of them responds, you and Yoongi whip your heads towards them only to find two self-satisfied, smirking shitheads.

“Why watch reality shows when you can make your own?” Seokjin says in lieu of an answer, pointing finger guns. He blows you a kiss with a wink.

You clutch your chest, pretending to wince in pain. “Augh! Poison damage!”

Seokjin scoffs. “Swagever, man. You’re just mad because you’re angry,” he retorts, sticking out his tongue.

While you were occupied bickering with Seokjin, you had not seen that one of your old schoolmates had invited herself to your table. She sandwiches herself in the space between you and Yoongi, bumping you roughly enough to topple you out of your chair.

“What the fuck?” you yelp in surprise, holding onto the table to balance yourself. After straightening back into your seat, you find that your view of the world has become obscured by asscheeks the size of beachballs.

“Hi Yoongi,” she purrs seductively. Or at least, what she thinks is seductive. To you, her voice sounds like nails grating on a chalkboard.

“Hello?” Yoongi says, but it comes out sounding more like a question. It’s clear that he doesn’t remember her name, as he searches your eyes for help. You shrug unhelpfully; you deleted almost all the names of everyone that you had gone to school with right after graduation. Besides, her horrendous plastic surgery makes it even twice as hard to discern her identity.

“Hi Hyejin,” Hoseok speaks up, answering your unspoken question. Oh, right. The name does ring a bell, somewhat. You don’t recall her looking like a cartoon character before, but you suppose beauty standards are meant to be subjective. Maybe she wanted to look like a One Piece character.

Hyejin purses her lips into a tight smile but doesn’t return his greeting. She turns back to Yoongi, bending forward until her boobs are practically smooshed against his face. You wonder idly if stabbing her chest with your chopsticks would cause them to burst like a balloon, or perhaps drain like a puss-filled pimple. Both, you surmise, would be very entertaining to watch.

“It’s been a while since we’ve last seen each other, hm? I heard you’ve been very busy ever since we graduated from high school,” she says, batting her eyelashes.

“Uh, yeah? Some of us have jobs,” he says, passively dissing her. You let out a strangled laugh, causing Hyejin to aim a glare back at you. You bring your (his) cup of water to your lips, feigning innocence.

Hyejin rolls her eyes. “Right. But I meant that you’ve become a real star back in Seoul! I didn’t know you were such a musical prodigy!”

“I’m really not. I just work hard,” he shrugs. He’s visibly uncomfortable, especially since Hyejin was pretty much breathing the same air as him. Every time he leans away from her, she takes it as an invitation to come closer. He is nearly lying horizontally at this point, his back parallel with the floor.

“Humble as well as handsome? My, my. I didn’t think you’d be such a charmer,” she laughs, saccharine sweet. She twirls her dyed brown hair with her perfectly manicured acrylic nails. You rub at the goosebumps forming on your arms, cringing at the phantom sensation of her nails digging into your skin.

“Just spit it out. What the hell do you want so you can leave,” Seokjin interjects. Everything about his demeanor says calm and collected, but the way he presses his lips into a thin line says otherwise. You can sense the air dropping in temperature, despite the embers burning behind his eyes.

“I came over here to ask if Yoongi could give me his autograph, that’s all. I am his biggest fan, after all,” she sulks. She winks at him for extra measure. “And maybe his number too? I’d love to discuss your music with you sometime!”

“Oh, um. That’s—” he cuts off, hesitant to answer. He tugs at his ears nervously, exchanging subtly alarmed glances with you.

You remember that signal very distinctly; it’s a distress call that he would do whenever he needed a way out. He used to do it a lot when you were at social gatherings, especially when people would trap him in boring or awkward conversations. He never did like socializing with people outside his circle, but he was often dragged to parties by his more extroverted friends.

He might be hot as hell with his stylish clothes and jaw-dropping undercut, but he’s still awkward as hell around strangers. When the universe created him, they made sure to keep everything in balance. If they hadn’t been fair, you certainly would’ve died much earlier.

“Yoongi, don’t you have spare CDs of your music?” you quip, dragging Hyejin’s attention onto you. Her eyes narrow imperceptibly, suspicious.

“I do?” He stares at you blankly.

You resist hitting your forehead in exasperation. “Yes, Yoongi. Remember? You left a couple of them in my car.”

Yoongi’s eyes light up in understanding. “Oh, right! I left my CDs. In your car. That we drove here. Together. We came here. Together. Yes, correct.”

From your periphery, you can sense Hoseok barely holding onto his sanity after witnessing that pitiful display. Who can blame him when Yoongi’s infamously terrible acting skills are having their first appearance in over ten years? How he managed to pass Drama class is still a mystery to this day.

“Yup,” you say, popping your p.  You give Hyejin a winsome smile, your hands folded neatly on your lap. You can almost see the steam blowing out of her ears. It fills you with delicious satisfaction. “Why don’t Yoongi and I go get them so he can sign one?”

If her eyes had been made of lasers, you’d be a cauterized mess jumble of organs by now. Can’t say you would regret it either way.

“How kind of you.” She sneers. “Also, I wasn’t aware that you two were still a thing.”

“I wasn’t aware that we were required to inform you of anything,” you retort placidly. You plaster on your fakest grin. “Now, if you can please move your fat ass—I mean, if you can please move out of the way so I can go to my car...” you trail off, gesturing for her to leave.

After a few more indignant sputters on her end, she eventually makes her exit. She throws a couple of poisonous glares, but they go largely ignored by you and your friends. With her gone, you feel as though you can finally breathe fresh air again.

“Great stuff, Y/N! Congrats on winning your first bitch-off,” Seokjin chirps, back to his usual self. You roll your eyes at his antics but smile nonetheless.

“Thanks. I learned from the best.”

Yoongi clears his throat. “So, are we still gonna go?” He looks back and forth from her to you. “Just so we can pretend you actually have my albums in your car?”

“Trust me, Yoongi-chi. She does have your albums in her car.” Seokjin titters. “I wasn’t kidding about the photocard collection.”

“Ignore him. And yes, I do have your albums. I listen to them in my car from time to time,” you say, attempting nonchalance. “I’d hate to give them away to that bitch, but if it keeps her away...”

Away from you is left unsaid, but it’s heavily implied.

(No, you aren’t jealous. You’re above jealousy. It’s not like that bitch would ever have a chance with him anyway, unlike you—!

Woah there, cowgirl. Let’s stay on the right path. Don’t want your heart getting chewed up and spat back out all over again, do you?)

“I’ll just mail you a new one. Signed, if you want. You can probably sell it on eBay or whatever.” He tries to say it like a joke, but his brow is too furrowed to be convincing. (You want to kiss him there and make it go away.)

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so all you do is nod mutely. You stand up and Yoongi follows suit.

“We’ll be right back. If she comes back before then, tell her to scram,” you tell Hoseok and Seokjin. They salute you in response (well, Hoseok does. Seokjin does a very rude gesture with his fingers that is supposed to mimic something explicit. Feel free to use your imagination.)

The walk to the parking lot is a quiet one. The two of you stay side by side, his strides naturally matching your own. Unlike before, you don’t feel the need to fill the silence for once, content to just be in each other’s presence.

The hotel that your reunion is being held at is unusually unpopulated. The lobby consists of a handful of employees milling about, a few of whom look ready to fall asleep on their feet. You nod politely at the bellboy who opens the main doors for you, declining his offer to call the valet service to fetch your car.

“Just hand me my keys. I’ll look for my car in the parking lot.” It wouldn’t be hard to find, anyway. Your beat-up Toyota Corolla looks as though it’s been through three wars and then some.

It isn’t long until you find it parked close to the entrance. You unlock your car from the passenger seat, shimmying the glove compartment open to reveal your collection of CDs.

“Wow, you weren’t lying when you said you listened to my music,” Yoongi says, voice loud amidst the tranquil night. It startles you, and you accidentally knock over some of the albums onto your car floor. On top of the pile lies Yoongi’s most recent album, the one you recall he had released a couple of months ago.

Strange, how just hours ago you were listening to his music on the way to the reunion, only for the boy on the cover of the album to be just inches away from you.

“Yeah, well. You’re a pretty good artist,” you say.

“Only pretty good?” he repeats, amused.

“Don’t push it,” you snort. You grab the album on top, waving it in front of him. “This should be good enough, right?”

He plucks it from your grasp, an unreadable expression clouding his eyes. He chuckles, but there’s an edge of sadness in his tone. “Good enough,” he agrees solemnly.

His sudden quietness is different from the peaceful one before. It’s sorrowful, maybe regretful. He looks like a man stuck in grief.

“Did you know that I didn’t finish this album before releasing it?”

The question seems a little out of the blue, but you answer regardless. “No, I didn’t. They don’t sound unfinished to me.”

“The songs themselves aren’t unfinished,” he explains. He turns the album over, his finger running down the back where the tracklist is printed. “One of my songs never made it in.”

“Couldn’t you have delayed the album launch so you could complete it?”

He shakes his head. “It was actually the first song I finished out of all of them.”

“Then..?”

“It didn’t matter, at the time. I wrote it for someone specifically, but I didn’t want to put it on the album if she—they didn’t listen to it. It wouldn’t matter if the whole world heard that song because only they would understand it.”

“But now? What changed?” Fear and hope run down your spine in tandem when the question tumbles out of you. You hold your breath, and the world shifts from its axis.

But he doesn’t elaborate further.

x x x x x

You return to the hotel after acquiring both an album and some more tension. The album feels heavy in your hands, weighed down by secrets you are still too afraid to uncover. Not that Yoongi would ever willingly divulge them to you—because revealing them would make them real, and making them real would mean you would have to accept them, and accepting them would cause you to—

“They’re gone,” Yoongi announces when you reenter the ballroom. You can’t spot your table from the entranceway, but the certainty in Yoongi’s tone makes you believe him.

“No fucking way. Did those two little shits ditch us to exchange body fluids or something?”

Yoongi grimaces. “Please don’t say it like that. It’s bad enough that I was sitting close enough to Hoseok a while ago that I got accidentally footsie’d by Seokjin hyung.”

You wince, placing a pitying hand on his shoulder. “God didn’t make us his strongest soldiers.”

Yoongi tries dialing Hoseok a few times, but none of the calls connect. “Just my rotten luck,” he groans. He types angrily into his phone, worry creasing his forehead. “He was supposed to be my ride back to his place.”

“Seokjin isn’t answering his phone either,” you say apologetically. “How much do you wanna bet this is part of their evil scheme to leave us together?”

“I don’t doubt it in the slightest,” he deadpans. He sighs tiredly, rubbing his temples. “I suppose I can take a taxi there, but I also don’t know if he’ll be home to open the door for me.”

“Then why don’t you just stay with me?”

You don’t know what you’re doing.

In your head, the offer makes sense. He’s just a friend, you remind yourself. Nothing is stopping you from rekindling a friendship with him. You have purely platonic intentions. Friends help each other out.

Never mind the fact that your heart hasn’t stopped fluttering the entire night. Never mind the fact that you’ve caught yourself staring at him just as many times as you’ve caught him staring at you. Never mind the fact that you don’t want the night to end, not now not ever.

(Never mind the fact that you’ve never quite stopped loving him.)

So when he accepts, you convince yourself that offering had been the right thing to do.

(Maybe. Hopefully. You just wish your heart doesn’t end up as collateral damage.)

The drive home is short, thanks to the late hour. You had asked him if he had wanted to stay until the end of the reunion, but he had declined. “Nothing else left for me there,” he says.

You feel as though he’s hinting at something. Your grip on the steering wheel tightens. “At least I get to keep my album.”

Yoongi laughs, short and sweet.

As much as you try to fight it, sitting in the car with him brings up a lot of memories.

The two of you in the backseat as his older brother drives you to his house for dinner, backpacks filled with crumpled notes and loose pens, a promise of an intense study session for your upcoming exams ready to be broken. You remember how the sky would turn orange in the afternoon, the warm light streaming through the car window and washing Yoongi’s skin with a soft glow.

His cheeks had looked inviting, his lips even more. And you would lean over, kissing him like it was easy. Because it was easy, and you never had to think twice about it.

Your trip down memory lane doesn’t end in the car. As you walk up the steps to your childhood home, you hesitate by the door, your keys frozen over the lock. You can hear Yoongi’s soft breathing behind you, but his presence doesn’t feel as stifling as you thought it would be.

You’re far from being at ease, but you aren’t frightened either. Mostly, you’re just filled with anticipation. Of what? You aren’t sure.

“Excuse the mess. Jungkook is in the middle of moving out so there’s just stuff everywhere,” you say just as you open the door. You toe off your shoes by the entrance, kicking them off haphazardly into the pile of sneakers and boots.

You hear Yoongi huff out a laugh behind you. “Aish, that kid. Still hasn’t let go of his Timbs, huh?”

“He has also been really into chunky sneakers these days. I think he’s finalizing his transformation into Thumper,” you joke. “He’s staying at his new apartment for the weekend with my parents, so you won’t be seeing them. They’re helping him settle in.”

“Really? He didn’t mention moving when we spoke. Where is he moving to?”

“Busan. He and his best friend from college are going to start a restaurant in his hometown. Which is funny, since neither of them are the best chefs.”

Yoongi whistles. “Still, that’s impressive. I can’t remove the image from my head of when he was a kid. He was so scared of anything. He wouldn’t let go of your mom’s leg even if his life depended on it.”

He steps deeper into the house, his gaze jumping from end to end as he surveys your childhood home. You watch him, noting how right he looks standing there in the middle of your living room, like a chipped painting that has been restored.

It’s scary, how easily you’ve accepted him back into this place.

He stays rooted to the spot, the moonlight filtering through the kitchen windows and illuminating his frame. The air pulses with something magical, something dream-like, and it muddles your vision. It’s the only explanation you have for why your chest tightens when he turns to face you, with a gaze filled with sadness, mourning, yearning.

“Jungkook’s height chart is still here,” he murmurs. The small nicks on the kitchen door frame are hard to see, and other people have mistaken them for signs of wear and tear. But he knows what they are because he was there when your mother had etched the first scratch.

He looks at your ancient dining table, his hand brushing over the surface. “This too,” he says, rubbing at a large burn mark on the wood.

“Mom made sure to use placemats after that. I didn’t think a sizzling plate would burn through the table like that,” you say, giggling as you reminisce. “You know, we still use your mom’s galbi jjim recipe. We haven’t found a better one.”

“I’m sure she would love to hear that,” Yoongi smiles, but it fades just as quickly. “It’s so… strange. Being here again and seeing that nothing really changed.”

But things did change. Upstairs, in your bedroom. That night, ten years ago.

You still remember what you had said to him, when you had said it to him, how you had said it to him.

It was a sunny afternoon, the time of day when you’d be on your way home from school. The two of you had stood in your room, neither of you wanting to sit because sitting meant staying, and staying only made this harder.

There hadn’t been many tears in that moment; those were shed only after the realization had sunk in, when you’d fully understood what had happened. At the time, the decision had been as easy as breathing.

Except you had both been drowning. The clock was ticking down to the end of high school, and the inevitable wasn’t slowing down.

Yoongi wanted to chase his dreams in Seoul. You wanted to stay closer to home, with your friends and family.

You weren’t going to be the one to hold him down. You weren’t going to be that person, not when he’s destined for greater things than his hometown could offer—not even a girl who loved him would be worth staying for.

He had suggested it, first. He had been prepared for you to cry, or maybe scream, but you did none of that. Instead, you pulled him close, hugging him tighter than you ever had before. You wanted to make it last, imprint the sensation onto your brain so that his warmth might stay with you, even after he’s little more than a distant memory. You trembled, terribly so, even though the beginnings of summer crept on your skin like a brand.

It’s time to let him go, Time whispered. You refused to listen, just for another moment.

Let me have this last moment, you beg. But Time refused to listen.

“Do you know?” Yoongi had spoken into your neck, had hoped his words would stain there. “Do you know how much I love you?”

Love, not loved. “I did,” you say. You think better of it. “I do.”

When you separated, for good this time, it had left an ache deeper than you could have ever imagined.

But you were young. Young love was supposed to hurt, but it wasn’t supposed to last. “You’ll find others,” your mother had said, brushing a soothing hand through your hair as you sobbed.

Then why? Then why has it lasted this long?

It has been a question you’ve asked yourself, and you’re starting to think that the answer has always been right in front of you.

The answer is standing in front of you: real, alive, close.

“Why didn’t you ever date again?” you ask. You ask even though you know he can lie, if he wants. He can tell you anything and you would believe him.

But he wouldn’t; you know he wouldn’t.

“I was afraid of closing a door that I never meant to close in the first place,” he says. His voice crackles like static, but that might be the blood rushing to your head. He moves toward you but keeps a hand’s width away. Still too far.

He continues. “After that day, when I left,” he swallows, “after I left, I think… I think I left a piece of me with you. A-and I don’t think I ever stopped…” he cuts off, exhaling shakily.

“Stopped what?” you breathe.

“You know.” He waves his hands around helplessly. They fall heavily back down to his sides, defeated. “You know?” he repeats.

You do. Because you are the same. The old wound had never healed; it burns and it bleeds like new.

Your skull feels like it’s stuffed with cotton when you close the distance between the two of you. He circles his arms around your waist, tentative, but he relaxes when you wind your arms around his neck. Your vision is warped, so you choose to close them. You wait, with bated breath, as his warmth inched closer and closer.

The sensation of his lips on yours jolts you back to your senses. His kiss reminds you of your youth, of a love that had made you excited to start your day. Even now, your body remembers, and it rejoices.

The tenderness does not last long before it turns fervent, tongue and teeth crashing like waves against the shore. If his kisses could speak, they would tell you stories of how much he missed you, of how much he mourned the time you had both lost. They would tell you of the days when he’d almost pressed your number onto his phone, of the nights when he’d stare at the polaroids he had kept of you.

They would ask if you still love him like he still loves you.

He tastes of desperation, and you are likely to be the same. It is a desperation you haven’t tasted in years—but it doesn’t feel scary like it used to. Time no longer feels like it’s racing against you, like you had something to prove before the hour was over. This reckless abandon feels like home against your skin—it is an ache being soothed after having ripped your scabs over and over again.

It’s Yoongi.

And when he pulls you to your room, he doesn’t even need his eyes to find his way as his feet still memorize the floorboards. He struggles with the doorknob, forgetting that it always jammed, but it’s okay because you can always teach him again. You can teach him everything again.

The bed creaks under your weights and even the mattress sounds like it is sighing in relief. That sigh echoes from your lips when his hand slips under your clothes, his palm stopping over your heart.

“I won’t break it, this time,” he says. He promises. “If you let me.”

You wonder if he can feel your heart soaring, pounding against your ribs. “I think the line has long been crossed to ask for my permission.” You place your hand over where his is laid. You squeeze tight.

This time, you don’t let him go.

[clonewarslover55]

congrats on sticking with the writing for a year! I love reading your stuff and can't wait to see what you put out in the future.

If your still taking requests can I have a bad batch x reader (you can pick which catcher it is) where they aren't together but like each other and have to pretend to be parents to omega to get out of trouble?

(I hope that makes sense. If it doesn't or it doesn't appeal to you, it's alright. I'm just a sucker for Star Wars Dads like the batch and Din😆)

Thanks!

Pretending to be Omega's parents with Hunter

Hunter X GenderNeutral!Reader

Thank you so much anon!! And yes, this makes perfect sense!! I really loved this request actually!

Notes: I chose Hunter because he is the main dad of the group! Also the reader is gender neutral!

Warnings: Spoilers for the Bad Batch, reader has known them for years so this fits together better(established relationship), Reader and Hunter have some mutual pinning going on ;)

You had worked with the Bad Batch throughout most of the Clone Wars, and they considered you a trustworthy assaset. Of course you were a low life like many others in the galaxy.

You worked odd jobs to make ends meet. From Bounty Hunter to smuggler, you had done it all. The Bad Batch loved you and all that you did, especially when you helped them on jobs or with their ship.

Once the war ended you were making good money off of many jobs, well until some certain clones came knocking on your door. You couldn’t say no to your boys, so you willingly welcomed them back into your life.

Now you were on the run with them; your future career in odd jobs possibly went down the drain now that the Empire was on your ass as well. But oh was it fun working with them again. Sadly Crosshair was left behind and now a slave to the Empire instead of the Republic. You’d miss the grouchy bastard. You’d help your boys get him back soon though.

Since the last time you saw them, the Bad Batch had also gained a new member. A sweet little blonde girl named Omega. She was absolutely adorable, and Hunter had clearly adopted her in his head. He’d do anything for that kid.

It was precious. And it only made your attraction to him grow.

You had always liked Hunter a bit more than the others…..In a different way as well. You believed the feeling was mutual. Well, you hoped it was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*The Havoc Marauder,(The Bad Batch’s ship), Space.*

Currently you are sitting in the ship, Omega sitting in your lap. You were telling her a story about some Bounty Job you had done a few years back. It was an incredible story, and of course you were the badass in it.

You exaggerated the story a bit, and Hunter clearly noticed. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, Hunter looking at you with a knowing smirk. You winked at him before turning your full attention back to Omega.

Her eyes were wide as she listened with great interest. Every now and then she’d interrupt you with a question. She was extremely curious, but still a sweetheart.

“We’re nearly there. The market town is rather large but we could still be noticed. The Empire clearly has a hold on the city.” Tech spoke, glancing at everyone in the ship. “The only way in is with disguises.”

You sat down Omega, “We’ll finish the story later.” You whispered, winking at the young girl. She grinned widely, winking back.

Wrecker laughed from the back, setting down the Gonk droid. “Yeah! Our armor does stand out huh?!” He punched Echo’s shoulder, Echo winching and glaring at his brother. You grinned at the boys.

“Oh I have an idea for Hunter and you.” Tech looked at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Tech knew you and Hunter had been pinning after one another for some time, neither of you making a move. So he’d make the move for you both.

You could nearly read their minds at this point. So you knew just what he had in mind. You glared at Tech, “Bastard.” You mouthed, Tech shrugging his shoulders. Hunter raised his eyebrows, glancing at you both.

“What?” Hunter asked, crossing his arms as he stood up from his seat.

“You two go in, wearing civilian clothes of course. Take Omega…..and pretend to be her parents. No one would have any idea who you are. You’d just be a couple out with their child, shopping the day away.” Hunter glanced at you, something alight in his dark eyes.

“I love this idea!!” Omega chirped, grinning widely at you and Hunter. “We’d be a good family!!” Tech and Echo smirked at you and Hunter. Wrecker looked as oblivious as Omega, but still just as happy.

You smiled nervously at Hunter who merely nodded his head. “Fine.” You spoke as you stood up, walking into the back to change your clothes. Hunter patted Tech’s shoulder as passed him, following you.

Tech grinned at the others once you and Hunter left the room. Omega even knew what was going on. A perfect plan to get you two to hook up!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*The surface of the planet, the ship docks of the market town*

You walked off the ship, your hand holding Omega’s much smaller one. You, Omega, and Hunter were in similar civilian clothes, looking like an average couple with their daughter.

Echo followed with Tech, Wrecker staying on the ship as backup and as a guard. You grinned at their civilian clothes. Echo looked droid like and Tech was in some ugly outfit. Poor Tech looked uncomfortable while Hunter looked extremely comfortable.

“Alright. Separate ways, we grab what we need and bounce.” Hunter spoke, his firm voice making you pay great attention to him. You stared at his lips as he explained the plan.

“Everyone got it?” You nodded even though you hadn’t really listened…..His lips and handsome face were just that distracting. Tech and Echo left first, swiftly disappearing within the crowd of people.

“Alright then. Come on.” Hunter grabbed Omega’s free hand, leading you and her into the market town crowd.

You gently squeezed Omega's hand, “Have that list memorized sweetie?” You questioned, your voice sweet and dripping with honey. Omega grinned at the nickname, nodding eagerly. “Yup!” Hunter smiled back at his “daughter” and you, a soft look in his dark eyes.

About halfway through your little shopping spree Omega paused, looking at a toy cart. You smiled and pulled away from your “husband.” You led Omega to the cart, holding her tiny hand still. Hunter sighed, following you both.

She picked up a toy clone trooper, looking back at you and Hunter with puppy dog eyes. “How can I say no to that?!” You grinned, tossing the vendor the correct amount of credits.

“You spoil her.” Hunter spoke, putting his arm around you. You shrug, “So do you.” Hunter glared at you playfully, the vendor smiling at you both. “Perhaps.” Hunter spoke, leading you away by your waist; Omega followed, one hand holding Hunter’s and the other holding her new toy.

Once you two had all the goods you stopped, out of the way of the crowd of course. “We do make a decent couple don’t we?” You whispered quietly, Hunter’s face inches from yours so he could hear you.

Hunter nodded, Omega ignoring you both as she watched the crowd pass. “We should do this more often shouldn’t we?” He spoke, teasingly brushing his nose against yours. Your face got hot, a wide smile coming onto your face.

“Yes we should.” You whispered, your eyes flicking to his lips. Hunter smirked, finally connecting his lips with yours.

The wonderful kiss was interrupted by Omega screaming, “Ew!!! Tech! Echo! They’re kissing!!!!” You busted out laughing as she screamed over the comms. Hunter clearly died a little bit, hiding his face in your neck.

You laughed harder when you heard the laughing replies. “We’ll never live this down will we?” Hunter questioned. You shrugged, “I hope not.” You muttered, pressing your lips to his once again.

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[pandafromcanada420]

Teacher au Sukufushi

CW: teacher x student, age difference, smut, daddy kink, slight degradation kink

Megumi was frustrated. Sexually frustrated to be exact. It had been weeks since his last good fucking, since the last time he thought he was going to pass out because he had cummed too many times. It was absolutely infuriating knowing that he’d gone almost an entire two weeks without a real dick up his ass or down his throat. And the only person to blame was one Ryoumen Sukuna.

The homeroom teacher had basically taken sex off the table in the last few weeks as finals crept closer and more and more paperwork was piled onto his desk. 

Megumi understood, he really did, but that didn’t stop the burning ache he felt every time he saw his teacher at the front of the class. It’s like he was thrown back into his first year when Sukuna was some unattainable figure, someone he could stare at but never touch. It was agony all over again. 

All he wanted was to be back in the arms of the one he loved. 

And Fushiguro Megumi always got what he wanted.

It took no time at all to cook up a plan. Every day the teachers go to eat together, leaving one Ryoumen Sukuna alone in the faculty room (Sukuna hated interacting with the other teachers more than he had to). It would be easy to slip into the room and have his way with his teacher, they had done it dozens of times before. 

So that’s what Megumi did.

He skipped his lunch period in favor of creeping down the hall and around the corner to the faculty room, where the door was left open just a tad, just enough for Megumi to get close and peek inside. The room was empty, the teacher’s desks all left cluttered with strewn about work supplies. The only person left stood next to the copier on the other side of the room, back to the door and absorbed in getting the machine to work. 

Perfect.

Megumi was able to lower himself to the ground and awkwardly duck waddle over to Sukuna’s desk. As he moved the chair, Megumi caught sight of his long-lost thermos, the one Sukuna swears he couldn’t find around his apartment. 

The sentimental bastard. 

Megumi refocused himself, crawling all the way underneath the desk and replacing the chair so that he was completely hidden. “Stupid machine, taking forever to print out a few lousy pieces of paper.” Megumi could hear Sukuna’s agitated muttering. He couldn’t wait to fix that mood.

Sukuna pulled out the chair and promptly sat down, legs sliding under the desk and barely missing hitting Megumi. He could hear slurping from above him, Sukuna eating whatever he had packed in the thermos. Oh, Megumi would make him choke on his lunch.

Without hesitation, Megumi slid both his hands from Sukuna’s knees to his crotch. There was a loud gasp, followed by a curse then the wheels of the chair rolling backward as Sukuna ducked his head to check what had just touched him.

“Fushiguro Megumi, you little minx.” Sukuna breathed, visible relaxation coming to his face at seeing it was his beloved under the desk. “What are you doing? I’m trying to have lunch.”

“Well, I was about to have my own meal before you moved.” 

Sukuna rolled his eyes. “What did I tell you about finals? I have to focus on getting everything prepared.” 

Megumi leaned forward to better look at his teacher. “I know. That’s why I’m only going to suck you off, that way you can keep working.” He explained. 

Sukuna smirked, obviously interested in the prospect. There was still hesitation though. Megumi could fix that.

“Come on, daddy. Don’t you want my pretty little mouth around your big, fat cock? I promise I’ll do a real good job. I’ll suck you /all/ the way down.” Megumi traced his finger down his throat to emphasize just how deep he’d take the teacher. Hell, he even batted his long eyelashes he knew Sukuna was an absolute sucker for. 

“You drive a hard bargain, darling. How could I deny you now?” Sukuna lifted his head, double-checking there wasn’t anyone else in the room before making eye contact with the student, smirk gracing his face. “Go ahead, doll, get to it.” 

No more encouragement was needed. Megumi reached forward, putting his hands back on Sukuna’s knees and slowly running up his thighs and right over the bulge that was Sukuna’s soft cock. Megumi gave the bulge a few rubs through thin slacks before finally undoing the belt buckle and unzipping the pants. As a precaution, Megumi only pulled Sukuna’s cock from his underwear, letting it flop out and gaze at it in it’s quickly hardening glory. 

Megumi spit in his hand, making sure to make eye contact as he let the saliva drip between his fingers. Megumi could see Sukuna’s breath begin to pick up as he brought the spit soaked hand to the half hard cock. He gave a few pumps, loose and all wrist as he kept a strong look locked on Sukuna. Megumi loved watching the man lose his composure because of /him/. 

He leaned forward and gave a few kitten licks to the tip of the now completely hard dick in his hand. Megumi allowed his tongue to play, dipping into the slit and down the shaft as Megumi’s hand kept twisting a loose fist around the base. Spitting and kissing, getting the dick nice and wet while he mentally prepared himself to choke on it. 

When Megumi’s mouth was back on the tip, just sucking lightly, Sukuna’s hand came to grip the back of his head. “Come on, doll.  What happened to all that big talk from earlier? We don’t have all day. Get to it.”

Megumi huffed, glaring at Sukuna as he complied, finally taking him into his mouth. 

Sukuna was no average man, in any aspect, but especially when it came to his dick. No matter how many times Megumi had it in him, he was always taken aback. It was truly wonderful.

Megumi could already feel the ache in his jaw as he had to stretch his mouth wide to take the entire thing. Actively attempting to open his throat as he kept sinking lower and lower onto the cock, feeling it pass his uvula and enter his throat. Megumi gagged, barely able to cough with his mouth stuffed, soothed by a shushing Sukuna. 

At long last, Megumi’s nose landed in dark, curly pubes. “Atta boy, Megumi.” Sukuna praised, gently petting the student as he adjusted to the intrusion. 

Of course, Sukuna had no decency and when he deemed Megumi was more than accustomed, he proceeded to curl his fingers into Megumi’s hair and pull him off his dick only to force him back down. Megumi really did gag then, the sudden rough treatment not new or unwelcomed. 

Megumi completely let his throat go lax, both hands on Sukuna’s thighs for support and eyes rolled to the back of his head. “What a good boy, you are, letting daddy fuck your face.” 

Drool spilled from the sides of Megumi's mouth, actually dropping onto the floor below him. It felt so good to be used that Megumi just had to sneak a hand down into his own school slacks to free his own wet cock. Drops of precum dribbling from the tip and mixing with drool to make a small puddle. 

“Fuck, look at you. You’re such a fucking mess. A real slut for this cock, aren’t you?”

Megumi moaned in agreement. 

Sukuna continued to force Megumi’s head down, continued to punch his throat and bruise his mouth and absolute /use/ him. “Shit, you’re mouth feels so fucking good.” 

Megumi moaned when Sukuna threw his head back, gripping his head with both hands now as he sped up the movements. “I’m so fucking close,” Megumi hummed, adding some stimulation for his teacher as he jerked himself off faster. 

Just as Megumi was sure Sukuna was about to cum, the man stopped. Hands stilling Megumi’s head and sitting up straight in his chair. Megumi wanted to groan at the lack of movement. How dare he stop when Megumi was so close?

“Sukuna, lovely to see you here.” Came the voice of what Megumi would only guess was another teacher. “ I had a few questions about the upcoming exams.”

Sukuna cleared his throat, scooting his chair in further and crowding megumi under the desk. He was probably trying to hide Megumi better but in reality he was simply stuffing his dick deeper into the teen’s mouth. 

Memgumi might as well have forgotten about the other teacher. He was too focused on the throbbing dick in his mouth. Caution to the wind, Megumi began to suck hard on the appendage. Humming and slobbering and absolutely devouring the thing. 

A cough was heard from above him before a hand shot under the desk and forcibly held Megumi all the way down to the root, keeping him still. “I’m sorry, I’m pretty swamped with my own work right now. Why don’t you come by tomorrow and we can discuss this more.” 

Megumi reached to rub Sukuna’s balls through the pants, causing Sukuna to cough again. “Are you okay, Sukuna? Your face is pretty red.”

“Yes, yes, I’m perfectly fine. Now leave me alone to finish my work.” Sukuna barked at whoever was in the room. 

Followed was a huff, the sound of the door opening and closing, then an angry Sukuna rolling back in the chair and completely dislodging his dick from Megumi. 

“You little slut. Couldn’t wait for one moment, could you? Couldn’t help yourself? Hmm?” 

Megumi was lost in haze, no longer caring about the trouble they could have gotten in. “I’m sorry, daddy. Your dick is just too good. Please, daddy, let me finish. Let me finish.” 

Sukuna sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “What am I going to do with you?” 

He sighed again before placing a gentle hand under Megumi’s chin and tilting his head to look properly at Sukuna. “Open wide, doll. I’m gonna cum straight down that pretty little throat of yours.”

Obedient as ever, Megumi opened his mouth wide to allow Sukuna to glide his cock back in. Megumi gurgled, spewing more precum from his own cock. 

Megumi sucked hard, bobbing like mad until finally Sukuna groaned loud and spilled into the back of his mouth and straight down his throat as promised. It was hot and salty and just what Megumi needed to finish jerking himself to completion, cumming all over the floor. 

Sukuna pulled out, grabbing his chin and pointing Megumi’s hazy eyes to him. “Open. Let me see.” Megumi opened, showing his empty mouth. “Mmm, good boy.”

Slowly, Sukuna guided Megumi to his feet and stood him before the chair. He tucked the boy’s penis away and zipped him up then stood himself to look down at the student. He combed his fingers through Megumi’s eternally unruly hair then gave a tender kiss to the boy’s lips. “Go get cleaned up, doll. Class starts in a few. I’ll clean up here.” 

Megumi whined, tugging lightly on Sukuna’s shirt. He didn’t want to leave the teacher’s side yet. 

“Don’t worry, love. I’ll see you after school. I mean, I still need to punish you for this little naughty stunt afterall.” Sukuna smirked.

[scarlettscribbles]

she used to be mine

- Anthony Bridgerton & TwinSister!Reader

Tags: 4k words - 3rd person POV, sibling fluff, family fluff, Anthony/Siena (not the main focus), Anthony is a soft boi when it comes to you (the softest, in fact), mourning

Warning/s: a bit spicy at the beginning, mild injury, mention of blood, major character death

Summary: A question from Siena about love sends Anthony into the past; making him recall his memories of a sister long loved, but never forgotten. A story told in moments. 

a/n: don’t mind me, just manifesting my angst and bridgerton needs >> titles from waitress the musical

i. it’s not simple to say

“What do you think about love?” 

“Love? What’s this all of a sudden?” Anthony laughed. He captured between his hands Siena’s own and kissed it playfully, making her giggle. “What do I think about it, well. I love kissing you, touching you-” he planted a soft kiss on her collarbone as his hands trailed down her abdomen. “I love--”

“Okay, no stop. That is not what I meant at all!” Siena stilled his wandering hands, laughing. She snuggled closer until they were chest to chest. “Love with your friends, family,...women.” she waggled her brows at the last word.

“Women, hah.” Anthony cast his eyes upward. “The only women I’ve ever loved are my mother and five sisters.”

“You mean four.”

“What?”

“You have four sisters: Daphne, Eloise, Francesca, and Hyacinth if memory serves correctly. Unless your mother’s pregnant, which I believe is unlikely. My lord, did you perhaps miscount?” Siena teased. 

“No, no.” he waved his hand, chuckling. “She…”

ii. i still remember that girl

She was born 9 minutes before him; the eldest Bridgerton. This was a fact she liked lording over him teasingly. She won many arguments by simply stating “I am the eldest Bridgerton and therefore…” 

Sometimes he could still hear her say it in his head. 

“Remind me why I’m accompanying you again?”

“Because I am your older sister and--”

“I should always agree to what you’re saying, blah blah. Oh this is so crowded! Why could you not just send a maid to fetch the book?”

“Well what’s the fun in that? Come on Tony, you’re being too slow! It will be nighttime when we arrive there and the book I wanted will be gone!” she moaned miserably, turning around and tugging on his hand to encourage him to make haste.

“You and your dramatics. Why is this book so important anyway?”

“It simply is. I need it for when I become the Viscountess.” she smiled at him, chin jutting out proudly. “I can’t wait to get Papa’s watch. I will get it right, as Viscountess? He will pass it onto me along with the title.”

“Uh no he won’t. I am the heir in case you have forgotten, sister.”

“But I am the oldest. We might be both 10 but I am 9 minutes older than you.” she argued, waving her pointer finger at him. 

“Yes, yes you’ve said that like a million times now! But you’re a girl, so you can’t. You shall marry some guy, not that there are any worth marrying. Why just the today I saw the son of that family I cannot remember for the life of me, doing something horrendous! I think it would be better for you to stay away from any and all men.” Anthony paused, realizing that he was - or is soon going to be - one of those men. “Except for me and Papa, of course.”

She merely looked at him in amusement. “Pish posh.” his twin huffed, eyes glinting in the sunlight. “I’m not going to exchange my ambitions for some mere man. You shall see Tony, I will have that watch. Now come on!” she dropped his hand and gathered her skirts, ducking and maneuvering between the throng of people. Anthony felt a tinge of panic, seeing his sister slowly becoming engulfed by the crowd. 

“Sister wait!” he started to chase after her. He saw the blue tail-end of her skirt when someone bumped into him. He whirled around to complain to whoever it was; however, he seemed to have miscalculated the strength of his spin and tripped, landing on his bottom. “Ow, hey watch it!” he shouted at the people who accidentally kicked him, not noticing his figure on the ground.

Anthony hissed as he dusted his pants. He examined the palm of his hand and noticed scratches from when he landed too roughly on the floor. There were spots of red slowly making its way down his hand, along with drops of water.

Oh. He was crying. 

“Where are you?” his voice warbled. “Sister…”

Has she left him, truly? Surely not. His twin is many things but never cruel. She was tenacious, smart, and…

“Tony! I let you out of my sight for a second and - goodness!” She ran over and knelt in front of him, glaring at the people who would come too close. They parted for her, giving them a wide berth. “Here, take my handkerchief. We should get home and wash your hands. We don’t want it to be infected. And your clothes are a mess, Mama is going to have a fit. Come now,”

“But your book?” he sniffed.

“Eh, I can get it some other time.” she smiled and patted his cheeks. “Don’t cry now, sister’s got you.”

...kind. She was kind.  

iii. reckless just enough

Anthony was sulking. Not that he’d let anyone know. Papa had gotten angry with him. It wasn’t even a big thing. He simply...borrowed his watch to look at it. Anthony thought maybe he could figure out what made his twin so interested in it. It was a plain thing, nothing special maybe besides the monogram. He didn’t mean to drop it from the stairs. He really didn’t. He heard his name being called for lunch and he jolted.

He got a dressing down from Papa with his siblings present; Benedict and Colin in particular snickering at his plight. It was embarrassing. As soon as Papa dismissed him, he ran for his room, ignoring the calls of his twin. 

Right now he was hidden beneath the curtains and behind his bookshelf. Did Papa really have to scold him at the lunch table? Anthony buried his face between his hands. 

“You didn’t eat.”

Anthony banged his head on the wall when he looked up too fast.

“Are you okay?” his twin asked him, smiling amusedly. She carried with her a plate with bread, cheese, ham and a slice of blueberry pie. 

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re smiling.”

“Laughing and smiling are worlds apart, Tony.” she shook her head and sat beside him, nudging him insistently until they were shoulder to shoulder. She slid the plate from her lap to his. “Eat.”

Anthony looked at her blankly. “Are you so distraught that you cannot eat? Do you want me to hand feed you like a child?” She made a motion as if she was going to grab the plate but Anthony shooed her hands away.

“I’m perfectly capable, thank you.” he stuffed a piece of bread in his mouth. “How’d you find me anyway?”

“Please swallow before you talk.” she said. “And, this is your room Tony. I’m simply using common sense.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

Anthony picked up the ham and cheese and continued eating. For a moment, they just sat there in comfortable silence.

“It’s unfair.” Anthony said, breaking the silence. 

“What is?”

“Papa.”

“How come?”

“He was way too angry. I didn’t mean to drop his watch! And it wasn’t even broken. If it was, he could’ve repaired it easily.” he pouted.

“You could’ve also just asked him to look at it. You know, in his room. Where you can’t drop it from a height and possibly damage it.” she replied with a bit of sarcasm.

“Fine, yes, I could have.” he conceded. “I just don’t know why he was so angry.”

“It’s important to him.”

“It’s just a watch.” Anthony rebutted, pouting. His twin gave him a look that he knew meant “you look adorable but also stupid.”

“Nah.”

“No?”

“Nope.” she answered. “For one, it’s an heirloom. Heirloom is defined as -”

“I know what it means.” Anthony waved his hand. “Do go on.”

She gave him a faintly annoyed look which merely made him smirk. “I shall, and not because you told me to.” she cleared her throat. “The watch being an heirloom is just its value as a thing. There’s also the sentimental value. The memories and emotions attached to the watch. For Papa, he treasures it because it - probably - reminds him of grandfather and grandmother. Grandfather especially. Because he was the one to give the Papa the rights and responsibility for our family.”

“Is that why?”

“Why what?”

“I wanted to know what makes it so special for you.” Anthony shrugged. “You always talk about it, about getting the watch when we become older. I didn’t see the big deal. Is that why it’s so important to you too?”

“Yes, quite.” she answered. “I want to take care of our family, Tony. I know I can, I just do. I don’t want me to just be a wife. I’m meant for greater things. Also,” she grinned at him. “I want it so I could count down the seconds until I see you again.” 

Anthony fake gagged, pretending to chuck the bread and cheese onto his twins’ lap. His twin scrambled away far from him and yelped. “You are disgusting! Mama! Anthony ruined the new dress that we just got!”

“I did not!”

“You were about to!”

iv. i was never attention’s sweet center

It was just a stupid, off-hand comment from Benedict. Anthony knew his brother meant no harm but still, the comment hurt.

“Maybe she truly should have your title, brother.”

Anthony was no stranger to her loud and obvious wanting to inherit the head of the house. In fact, he supported his twin. If Papa permitted it, he would gladly concede to you. However, it was unspoken between the twins the knowledge that Papa would never agree to such a thing; no matter how much he loved his eldest daughter. 

Anthony was no stranger to her excellence either. While the both of them worked hard to set an example for their younger siblings. He always thought she was great at everything a girl should be and more. Though the ‘more’ part would never reach the ears of their mother or anybody else. Nobody should know that Anthony taught her how to sucker punch anybody that vexed her except maybe Benedict and Colin...also Eloise. That girl was far too curious and also far too attached to Benedict. Anthony thinks in the privacy of his mind that if she were a boy, there would be no quarrel that she’d get the title.

Other people also thought the same. Though they expressed it in a much less pleasant way, in words Anthony does not care for. They speak condescendingly. They speak of her gender with pity in their voices, their admiration twisted. They mention that her excellence should be toned down, that she should focus instead on things better suited to her. They speak of how inadequate Anthony is, how poor that a boy be overshadowed by a girl. They theorize how Anthony must hate her for taking all the spotlight. He hears all this, and she does too, seeing as they’re almost always attached at the hip. If it bothers her, she does not speak of it. 

They speak of lies. Anthony thinks that her abilities suit her as they are and that no matter how bright she shines, it would never be something to be upset over. He basked in her light. They are wrong for thinking that she’s taking a piece of his life away when in truth, she completes it. Best friends, twins, soulmates; he loves her and she loves him. Still, their words leave a mark.

So when Benedict said that albeit in a teasing manner, Anthony just ran away. As he got older, he found it the preferable way to escape his problems. If he could not run to her then he must run away. 

Anthony hugged himself as a strong breeze blew and made the unoccupied swing beside him rock.

“Tony.” And there she was. His twin was holding a book. She sat at the swing beside him. 

There was silence. The only thing he could hear were the wind, the scuffling of his feet, and the soft sound of her flipping the pages.

“Sister,” she did not look up from the book but she hummed, signifying that he was heard. “Why did you come out here? It’s better to read inside, surely.”

“You’re upset. Of course I would come.” she said matter-of-factly.

“Did Ben tattle?”

“Ben? Tattle? His mouth is tighter than a woman’s corset when it comes to secrets.” she laughed lightly. “Surely you know better than that.”

“Yeah, I do.” he smiled. Since they were little, even if they were distances apart, both of them would always know - or at least had an inkling of - what the other was feeling. During their early years they chalked it up to magic but now they both just conceded it as a twin thing. “Actually, I don’t. Know better, I mean. Everybody seems to think so. Am I inadequate, sister? Dumb perhaps? I feel like I cannot do anything right sometimes! Compared to you I - “

His twin laid a hand on his shoulder. “Tony.” her brows were drawn and her lips pursed. “First of all, there is no comparison brother. I am me and you are your wonderful self. We are both excellent, please do not doubt yourself of that no matter what anyone says. And I know they say a lot. I’m just so used to tuning them out that I never considered that you might not do the same. I’m sorry.”

She stood up and drew him into a hug. Anthony’s arms stayed limp at his side. “People will flap their mouths because that’s what they do; say their opinions even though it’s unwelcome. If we tried to stop every single one of them, why I believe it’ll take all our lifetime and more!” she chuckled. “We cannot change them so we must change how much we’ll let their words affect us. Their words don’t matter at all! If I could, then I would shove those words back up their mouth and let them swallow it. Which I don’t know how to do. D’you suppose punching them would work just as well?” Anthony laughed wetly at her quip. It would work but it would also involve somebody calling Mama and Papa for her ‘inappropriate behavior’.

“What I know is this.” she grasped his shoulders and held them so she could stare at him in the eyes. Anthony met her determined gaze head-on. “You’re good enough Tony. Hell, you’re excellent.”

Anthony sobbed and quickly drew her into a fierce hug, his tears surely wetting her dress but he knew she didn't mind. “That is as sure as the sun that rises in the east. As sure as our family’s love, and ours for each other.”

v. bring back the fire in her eyes

It started with a cold. She had stayed up too long outside and now she’s bed-ridden. Anthony crossed his arms at the corner of the room as his younger siblings ran around. In his opinion there was too much ruckus for her to properly rest. However, Mama brought it up earlier and his twin just waved her concern away, stating that some liveliness will do her good. And who was Anthony to go against the wishes of his dear sister? It doesn’t mean that he has to like it though.

“No you’re the troll!” Eloise insisted.

“I was the troll last round!” Colin argued back.

“Now, now,” Benedict placated them both, then he glanced at Anthony in a way that promised mischief. “Why don’t we let Anthony be the troll then? He certainly looks the part with how grouchy he is.”

Daphne giggled. “And how he’s guarding his corner.”

“And how horrendous his face looks!” added Eloise. 

Now he’s had enough. “You all look far too happy for someone who’s going to be troll food soon.”

“Troll wuh - AAH!” Eloise screamed as Anthony lunged at her. She took off with a sprint and soon the other Bridgertons followed as well, laughing boisterously. “Noo, Ben save me!”

“This is survival of the fittest -”

“Survival of the fittest your face!”

“Ehem.” Suddenly all motion stopped. Colin face-planted on the floor, caught by his momentum. All eyes went to the door where Violet Bridgerton stood along with a maid. She had a smile on her face coupled with a vaguely exasperated expression. “I’m glad you’re having fun but please take you playing outside. I need to tend to your sick sister.”

Various moans and complaints filled the room but only with a raise of their Mama’s brow, they filed outside the room, murmuring farewells and well wishes to the sole occupant of the bed. All except one. Anthony remained rooted at the side of his sister’s bed.

“Anthony, please.” Violet gently said. A complaint was on the tip of his tongue when a hand laid on his bicep. He looked at his sister, looking frail among the covers but she merely smiled and shook her head.

“I’ll be fine Tony.” she said. “Go and check that our siblings haven’t set the house ablaze or anything.”

For a moment, both of them just stared at each other. A silent conversation passing between them both. Anthony sighed. “Get well.” he bent over to press a kiss to her forehead. “I’m not sure I alone will be enough to stop them from doing that.”

She laughed. “You will be.”

vi. sometimes life just slips

It was only supposed to be a cold. A cold. 

Someone almost barreled through Anthony as he, Benedict, Colin came through the door. “Whoa!” he exclaimed as the maid said a rushed apology. Everyone in the house seemed to be in a mad dash. He exchanged looks with his brothers, who were as clueless as he.

“Anthony!” came the panicked voice of Eloise. He held her shoulders and looked over her for any harm of some sort that caused her to panic.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. Anthony was surprised to see her looking up at him with teary eyes. Eloise is looking at him like how she used to when she was much littler, pleading to Anthony. Believing with all her might that her older brother will make everything okay. He looked behind her to Daphne who was pursing her lips.

“Oh God, is someone dead?” Colin quipped, then promptly made a punched-out  noise as Benedict elbowed him.

“Sister, she - “

“She’s dead?!” Colin cried.

“No!” Daphne growled, irritated. “She’s just...in pain. Mama and Papa sent for doctors.”

“Goodness, how serious is this cold? - Anthony, wait!”

Anthony didn’t hear Benedict’s call. How could he over the thumping of his racing heartbeat? He ran upstairs like the devil was on his tail, and even then he felt like he was too slow. He paused at her door, psyching himself to open it. If he went in, what would he see? He raised his trembling hands, the complaints of his siblings nothing but a faint echo.

The doors burst open and out came two elderly men and one woman. The siblings crowded around them. Anthony could only hear snippets as he zeroed in on you. Mama was kneeling beside his twin’s bed, holding her daughter’s hand tight to her chest.

“The young miss will be fine -”

“We expect her fever to break -”

“Dear.” Anthony jumped, startled. The woman accompanying the doctors addressed him. “Are you okay?”

“My - my twin sister, will she be alright?”

“Twin, huh. That’s why you’re so distraught. Well all of you are but you in particular,” she shook her head and smiled. “Your sister is strong. She will be fine. You can go in. I’m sure she’ll be glad for your company.”

She need not say it twice. Anthony ran into the room.

“Sister.”

“Tony.”

He felt like he could breathe again.

vii. rewrite an ending or two

“Are you sure you don’t want to get up here? We shared a bed when we were little. And when we grew, sometimes.” she paused, thinking about her statement. “Often.” his twin amended.

Anthony hummed when she stopped running her hands through his hair. “No.”

“The ground is cold, Tony. You might get sick.”

“How could I? You already took all the sick with you.” Anthony grumbled. “I’m fine, sister.”

“If you say so.”

“How about you?” Anthony asked. 

“Hmm?” she smiled. Facing down and in the darkness, Anthony couldn’t have seen it but he felt it. “I believe I will be.”

viii. she is gone, but she used to be mine

 It was a miserable day in spring when the eldest Bridgerton was buried.

ix. most days i don’t recognize me 

“She…” Anthony clenched his jaw.

“Are you ever going to finish that sentence?” Siena asked, smiling until she noticed how tense he was. She reached out to touch his arm, inquiring, “My lord, are you alright?”

Anthony sniffed and quickly stood up, hastily picking up his clothes. “Yes, fine.” he answered, hopping on one foot to put his shoes on. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Siena asked. Anthony barely spared a glance at her, pausing shortly halfway out the door. He checked his watch, eyes glazing over for a moment.

“I need - I’m needed. At home.” With that, he briskly walked outside and into his carriage. It was today. He must’ve forgotten. How could he have forgotten? But he also ‘forgot’ the other years. The grief consumed him on this particular day. It was always a sore reminder that he was missing his other half. So instead of going to her grave, he went drinking. Instead of spending the day with her in his mind, he spent it with his cock inside somebody. Anthony spent so much time forgetting but now it’s as if her ghost had come to haunt him. Every memory had come rushing back, especially the day she died.

He remembered the night before. The doctors had told them she would be better. She told him she would be better. But he needed to stay close to her. Anthony fell asleep with her hand in his hair. Then he woke up to her eyes open but her breath was gone. He had never screamed so loud in his life.

Anthony remembered their parents barging into the room, Mama taking a step back looking as if she was seconds away from fainting. Then she saw her son on the floor and immediately enveloped him in her arms. He woke up in a bed sometime during the night. He woke up convinced it was all a dream but that promptly shattered when all his siblings (all except one) filed into the room in their sleepwear. Their eyes were swollen and wet. And it stayed that way until her funeral, and even some more after that.

The carriage stopped. Anthony got out and stopped at the gate. He knew Mama held some kind of family gathering during this day. What they did in the gathering, he had no idea. He never stayed long enough to attend. But today was different, somehow. 

He padded softly into the drawing room. A quick glance noted him of all his siblings’ presence. Francesca was playing a familiar tune. Colin was singing in a low tone. Benedict, Eloise, and Daphne were all sitting on one couch, leaning against each other. The youngest ones sat on the floor, trying to follow the lyrics Colin sang. Mama was sewing. The melancholy vibe was replaced with a startled one. Francesca stopped playing and Colin stopped singing. Mama dropped what she was holding and walked towards him, arms open.

Anthony crumbled. “Mama -”

x. for the girl that i knew

“Mama what do you think about love?” It was indeed a bleak day in spring. Everybody had left after the service but Anthony chose to stay, lingering.

“Anthony I -” Violet began.

“Why does it hurt so much?” he whirled around, uncaring as tears and snot fell messily down his tired face. “I feel as if someone carved an unfillable hole inside me. Like every breath I take is not right. Half of me is buried six feet underground, mama. How can I bear it?”

Anthony curled into himself as Mama enveloped him into her arms. “One day at a time, dearest. You have us still.” she whispered. “One day at a time.”

[fin.]

[julessworldd]

Being Dr. McKagan’s childhood best friend

Moved to Duff’s neighborhood after your parents divorced when you were 8. Your dad and you were walking around the cozy neighborhood. A tall blonde kid fell of his skateboard in front of you. Your dad helped Duff up and walked to his house so Marie could nurse him back. You instantly felt saved around the blond boy, come to find out you went to the same school. Marie would pick you up on their way to school with his siblings.

You two did everything together, quickly becoming the iconic duo that you are now at 27. Anyways Duff has always be over protective, looking out for danger, telling your shitty dates to go away.

Fast forward to high school, you tried out for the cheerleading squad. Having done gymnastics since you were 3, you were destined to be a cheerleader. You made the team, Duff played basketball and football his freshman year. You got to cheer him on. He always went to your games, cheer comps to support you and be the loudest one their. With high school comes dating. You got with a sophomore football player, fell in love with him. He was jealous of your relationship with Duff. Everyone thought you were together. If you have ever watched Threes company, how Jack is with Janet. That’s you and duff. Just extremely close best friends.

Duff and you finally graduated after prom, he was your date. Bought you a Corsage to match your dress, got a pocket thing to match also. Even convinced his older brother to let him drive you guys to prom in his mustang. His brother loves you like a sister so he caved in. Duff had got accepted in UCLA for pre med, he was over the moon. Everyone was for him, you had applied too. But didn’t get into the big school like duff. Both of you guys packed up and drove to LA. Soon Duff started classes, you were almost ready to start. Duff and you had enough to rent out a 3 bed apartment.

Eventually rent got too expensive for the both of you to pay rent and be able to eat all month. Duff had started a band with some dudes from school, the rhythm guitarist needed a place to crash. He was a junior at UCLA, for pre med like duff. He was extremely attractive, he was nice and cleaned up after himself. He had a nickname like duff, Izzy a play on with his last name. You never figured out his real name until he graduated undergrad. “Jeffery? After the serial killer?” You looked at duff. He sucker punched your arm. “You’re lucky a cop is near us, big bird”, you mumbled. Izzy got into med school at the university ofIndiana, leaving you and duff.

Later on Duff graduated, went to med school in Seattle. You stayed because you landed a good job as a bartender, the owner loved you bc of how good you were and always the team player. Eventually big bird and Izzy came back to LA, getting a job at Thunders Memorial(hey Karen ;)). Of course you were there for D’s undergrad and med school graduation. You about knocked him down, wrapping yourself around his waist. Kissing his face, embarrassing the shit of him. “So proud of you, D! I knew you could do it” you were just extremely proud of your best friend. Remembering laying in his bed as he paced around waiting for colleges to accept him. Telling him he would be the best damn Dr to exist. Your boys were now Cardiologist and pathologist, you were proud.

Going to visit them for lunch, Duff would take you the cafeteria. Everyone told him how beautiful you are, how lucky he is to have you. One of his nurses asked how long you two were together. You almost chocked on your drink, dribbling out of your mouth. “You aren’t my type, big bird. I know we made a pact if we weren’t married by 35, we would get hitched. But no way in hell!”, you freaked. Duff blushed. “Why do you call me big bird?” “You’re 7 foot tall, you’re blonde. I don’t know it came to me one day” next time you came, he took you to the basement.

“D, what the fuck?”, you whined before seeing Izzy’s name on the door. “Forgot he is the morgue” “Be nice. People talk about him all the time”, Duff said knocking. “Do you know Izzy? He don’t give a flying fuck about what people think or say about him”. “Shut it, Y/n” Duff rolled his eyes. “Hey asshole! Don’t roll your fucking eyes at me”, you yelled as Izzy opened the door. “Hello children! Don’t kill each other on my door step”, Izzy grinned. “Hey Iz! Pick up the phone”, you pushed by duff and hugged Izzy. There was knock on his door, “Corpse delivery?”, you spat out. “No, it’s my girlfriend. Moron”, Izzy walked to the door. “I’m sorry girlfriend? You��re breaking my heart, Iz”. There she was, Izzy lit up like a Christmas tree. Giving her a quick kiss. “This is Duff’s best friend, the one I told you about. Y/n say hi”, Izzy presented her to me. “She’s alive” you blurted out. Izzy gave you a go to hell look.

“Sorry, just that Izzy never really brought girls around much. Hi, I’m Y/n nice to meet you”, you got up and shook her hand. “You were roommates with Iz?” “Yeah until med school” you guys talked more. Found out she was actually smart, worked with numbers all day. He brought a walking Calculator to you. She was hot too, a shame Izzy got his paws on her first. Then you meet Susan, Duff’s fiancé. She was his nurse, they moved her to med surg bc of their engagement. Duff had a talk with you before you met her.

“Y/n be nice okay”

“I’m nice” you said offend.

“Not bitchy nice. She’s a good girl and I think she’s the one. Just please be nice for me!”, Duff whined. “I will long as she don’t plan on cheating on you and blaming it on you like Mandy. I’ll go to jail again over you”, you said. “She’s not like that okay. Just give her a chance” “okay I will for you, she’s got one chance before I pounce her” Susan opened up the door, pulling Duff into a hug. She kissed him a few times before noticing me. “You’re Y/n! I’ve heard so much about you!”, she pulled you into a hug. Your boys really had great taste.

End of the night, you and Su were best friends, Duff felt left out! “Awh, is big bird jealous?”, you puckered your lips at him. “No I’m not, short stack!”, he cut his eyes at you. You crawled over to him, “Come here! Auntie Y/n gotcha”, you kissed his head before he knocked you over. “Be nice”, Susan giggled. “Not you too!” “She likes me more than you, chicken legs”, you nudged his thigh. 

[thewidowsghost]

Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 1

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

(Y/n) stands in the kitchen of her mother and step-father's apartment, making the bean dip Smelly Gabe liked so much.

(Y/n) fixes her gaze on the counter but then she lets out a yelp as something hits her in between her shoulder blades.

"Hurry it up, girl!" Smelly Gabe snarls.

"Yes sir," (Y/n) murmurs.

A few minutes later, Gabe stalks into the kitchen, takes the dip without so much of a thank you.

(Y/n) fixes her gaze on the shoe on the ground before she moves to her room. She climbs into her bed, getting under her covers. (Y/n) turns, facing the wall.

She closes her eyes, falling to an uneasy sleep.

(Y/n) watches, disconnected from the others in the dream, as one of her brother's teachers turns into something that reminded her of a demon, or something similar that she'd read books about. The woman had bat wings, claws, and a mouth of yellow fangs.

Then (Y/n) looks around, her eyes widening in shock as she sees her brother holding a bronze sword.

Percy swings the sword, the demon exploding into yellow powder, vaporizing on the spot.

A hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder has (Y/n) jolting awake. "Honey? Are you okay?" Sally Jackson asks.

Catching the wide-eyed look of horror on (Y/n)'s face, Sally wraps her daughter in a hug.

(Y/n)'s breathing steadies, and she breathes in her mother's familiar scent - chocolate, licorice, and all the other things she sold at the candy shop in Grand Central Station.

"Did you get all your work done?" Sally asks softly, her thumb brushing over a slightly visible bruise that had appeared at the base of the back of her neck.

(Y/n) hums in reply.

. . .

The next day, (Y/n) is once again lying in her bed, not wanting to have to deal with Gabe throwing more shoes or glass bottles at / near her.

. . .

Percy walks into the apartment, dragging his suitcase behind him, hoping his mom would be home from work. Instead, Smelly Gabe is in the living room, playing poker with his buddies. The television blares ESPN; chips and beer cans are strewn all over the carpet.

Hardly looking up, he says around his cigar, "So, you're home."

"Where's my mom? (Y/n)?"

"Mom's working," Gabe says. "The girl's in her room. You got any cash?"

"That's it. No Welcome back. Good to see you. How has your life been the last six months?

Gabe had put on weight since the last time Percy had seen him. Gabe looked like a tuskless walrus in thrift-store clothes. He has about three hairs on his head, all combed over his bald scalp.

"I don't have any cash," Percy replies.

Gabe raises a greasy eyebrow. Gabe could sniff out money like a bloodhound, which is surprising, since his own smell should've covered up everything else.

"You took a taxi from the bus station," he says. "Probably paid with a twenty. Got six, seven bucks in change. Somebody expects to live under this roof, he ought to carry his own weight. Am I right, Eddie?"

Eddie, the super of the apartment building, looks at Percy with a twinge of sympathy. "Come on, Gabe," he says. The guy just got here."

"Am I right?" Gabe repeats.

Eddie scowls into his bowl of pretzels. The two other guys pass gas in harmony.

"Fine," Percy says. He digs a wad of dollars out of his pocket and throws the money on the table. "I hope you lose."

"Your report card came, brain boy!" He shouts back at Percy. "I wouldn't act so snooty!"

Percy slams the door to his room, which isn't really his room. During school months, it is Gabe's 'study.' He doesn't study anything in there except old car magazines, but he loves shoving his stuff in Percy's closet, leaving his muddy boots on the windowsill, and doing his best to make the place smell like his nasty cologne, cigars, and stale beer.

Percy drops his suitcase on the bed. Home sweet home he thinks.

Gabe's smell is almost worse than the nightmares about Mrs. Dodds, or the sound of that old fruit lady's shears snipping the yarn.

Percy sits, lost in his thoughts.

Then he hears his mom's voice, "Percy?" She opens the bedroom door, and his fears melt. "Oh, Percy," she hugs him tight. "I can't believe it. You've grown since Christmas."

Sally had brought Percy a bag of 'free samples' the way she always did whenever he'd come home.

The two sit together on the bed. While Percy attacks the blueberry sour strings, she runs her hands through his hair, demanding to know everything that he hadn't put in his letters. She doesn't mention his getting expelled. She doesn't seem to care about that.

Percy tells his mother that she is smothering him, but secretly, Percy is really, really glad to see her.

From the other room, Gabe yells, "Hey, Sally - how about some bean dip, huh?"

Percy grits his teeth. My mom is the nicest lady in the world. She should be married to a millionaire, not to some jerk like Gabe.

(Y/n) pads into Percy's room, and the dark haired boy brightens at the sight of his younger twin.

"I've got the dip, Mom," (Y/n) says softly. Sally gazes at her daughter for a moment, her gaze sad.

"Wait, (Y/n)," Sally says, and (Y/n) turns back to face her mother. "I've got a surprise for the two of you," she says. "We're going to the beach."

Percy's eyes widen. "Montauk?"

"Three nights - same cabin," Sally replies.

"When?" (Y/n) asks, looking excited.

She smiles, "As soon as I get changed."

(Y/n) can't believe it. Mom, Percy, and I hadn't been to Montauk in the last two summers because Gabe had said that there wasn't enough money.

Gabe appears in the doorway behind (Y/n) and growls, "Bean dip, Sally? Didn't you hear me?"

Percy wants to punch him, but he meets his mother's eyes, and understands that she is offering him a deal: Be nice to Gabe for a little while; just until she's ready to leave for Montauk.

"I've got it, Gabe," (Y/n) says.

"Sorry, honey," Sally says, looking at her husband. "We were just talking about the trip."

Gabe's eyes get small. "The trip? You mean you were serious about that?"

"I knew it," Percy mutters. "He won't let us go."

"Of course he will," Sally says evenly. "Your stepfather is just worried about money."

(Y/n) turns to face Gabe, smiling as kindly as she could. "What if I make a seven-layer dip that'll last the whole weekend?" she asks. "Guacamole. Sour cream. The works."

Gabe softens a bit, then turns back to face Sally. "So, this money for your trip . . . it comes out of your clothes budget, right?"

"Yes, honey," Sally replies.

"And you won't take my car anywhere but there and back."

"We'll be very careful."

Gabe scratches his double chin. "Maybe if the girl hurries up with the seven-layer dip . . . and if the boy apologizes for interrupting my poker game."

Maybe if I kick you in your soft spot, Percy thinks. And make you sing soprano for a week.

"I'm sorry," Percy mutters. "I'm really sorry I interrupted your incredibly important power game. Please go back to it right now."

Gabe's eyes narrow. His tiny brain is probably trying to detect the sarcasm in my statement, Percy thinks.

"Yeah, whatever," Gabe decides; he goes back to his game.

"Thank you, Percy," Sally says. "Once we get to Montauk, we'll talk more about...whatever you've forgotten to tell me, okay?"

For a moment, (Y/n) can see anxiety in her mother's eyes, but then her smile returns, and (Y/n) figures that she must've been mistaken.

. . .

An hour later, the three are ready to leave.

Gabe takes a break from his poker game long enough to watch (Y/n) and Percy lug the bags to his car. He keeps griping and groaning about losing her and (Y/n)'s cooking - and more important, his '78 Camaro - for the whole weekend.

"Not a scratch on this car, brain boy," Gabe warns Percy as he loads the last bag into the car. "Not one little scratch."

Like I'd be the one driving. I'm fourteen, Percy thinks.

Watching Gabe lumbers back towards the apartment building, Percy gets so mad that he does something he can't explain. As Gabe reaches the door, Percy makes the hand gesture he'd seen Grover made on the bus, a soft of warding-off-evil gesture, a clawed hand over his heart, then a shoving movement towards Gabe. The screen door slams so hard it whacks him the the butt and sends him flying up the staircase as if he'd been shot from a cannon.

. . .

(Y/n)'s POV

Our rental cabin is on the south shore, way out at the tip of Long Island. It is a little pastel box with faded curtains, half sunken into the dunes. There's always sand in the sheets, spiders in the cabinets, and most of the time the sea is too cold to swim in.

I loved the place.

Mom, Percy, and I had been going ever since Percy and I'd been a baby. Mom had been coming even longer. She'd never exactly said, but I know why the beach was special to her.

It's the place where she'd met my Dad.

As we get closer to Montauk, Mom seems to grow younger, years of worry and work disappearing from her face. Her eyes turn the color of the sea.

We get there around sunset, open all the cabin's windows, and go through the usual cleaning routine.

Mom, Percy, and I walk on the beach, feed blue corn-chips to the seagulls, and munch on blue jelly beans, blue saltwater taffy, and all the other free samples Mom had brought home from work.

I guess maybe I should explain all the blue food.

Gabe had once told Mom that there was no such thing. They had had this fight, which had seemed like a really small think at the time, but ever since, Mom went out of her way to eat blue. She baked blue birthday cakes, mixed blueberry smoothies, bought blue-corn tortilla chips, and brought home blue candy from the shop. This - along with keeping her maiden name, Jackson, rather than calling herself Mrs. Ugliano - is proof that she isn't totally suckered by Gabe. She did have a rebellious streak, just like Percy.

When it gets dark, we make a fire. We roast hot dogs and marshmallows. Mom tells Percy and me stories about when she was a kid, back before her parents had died in the plane crash. She tells us about the books she wanted to write someday, when she had enough money to quit the candy shop.

Eventually, it seems that Percy gets the nerve to ask about what is always on our minds whenever we come to Montauk - our father. Mom's eyes go all misty. I figure she would tell us the same things she always did, but neither Percy or I ever got tired of hearing them.

"He was kind, Percy," Mom replies. "Tall, handsome, and powerful. But gentle too, like you, (Y/n)." Mom says and I soften. "You have his black hair, Percy, and you both share his green eyes.

Mom fishes a blue jelly bean out of her candy bag. "I wish he could see you two. He would be so proud."

I wonder how she could say that when I'm the girl who cowers from her stepfather. The girl who hides in her room to get away from said stepfather.

"How old were we?" Percy asks, pulling me from my thoughts. "I mean . . . when he left?"

Mom watches the flames. "He was only with me for one summer, Percy. Right here at this beach. This cabin."

"But . . . he knew us as babies."

"No, honey," Mom replies. "He knew I was expecting twins, but he never met you. He had to leave before you were born."

I try to square that with the fact that I seem to remember . . . something about my father. A warm glow, maybe a smile.

Percy and I had always assumed that our father had known us as babies. Mom had never said it outright, but still, I'd felt that it must be true. Now, to be told that he'd never even seen us . . .

I feel angry at my father. Maybe it is stupid, but I resent him for going on that ocean voyage, for not having the guts to marry Mom.

"Are you going to send me away again?" Percy asks. "To another boarding school?"

Mom pulls a marshmallow from the fire.

"I don't know, honey," her voice is heavy. "I think . . . I think we'll have to do something."

"Because you don't want me around?" Percy says and I flinch, avoiding both his and Mom's gazes.

I glance up to see that Mom's eyes had welled up with tears. "Oh, Percy, no. I - I have to, honey. For your own good. I have to send you away."

"But you never send her away," Percy says and I look up, eyes wide with surprise.

Mom looks at Percy, eyes wide with shock.

Finally she says, "I have to keep both of you away from each other as much as possible. I thought you'd finally be safe."

"I tried to keep you as close to me as I could," Mom says. "They told me it was a mistake. But there's only one other option, Percy, (Y/n) - the place your father wanted to send you two. And I just . . . I just can't stand to do it."

"Our father wanted us to go to a special school?" I ask.

"Not a school," Mom replies. "A summer camp."

My head spins. Why would my dad - who hadn't even stayed around to see me and Percy be born - talk to Mom about a summer camp?

"I'm sorry, (Y/n)," Mom says, seeing the look in my eyes. "But I can't talk about it. I - I couldn't send you two to that place. It might mean saying goodbye to you for good."

"For good?" Percy asks. "But if it's only a summer camp . . ."

Mom turns towards the fire, and I know from her expression, that if we asked any more questions, she would start to cry.

Word Count: 2413 words

[ray-ray-writings]

i don't really know how this thought came to me but consider a reader who's a pillager hybrid of their whole family are pillagers but the reader doesn't really... agree with their lifestyle so they run away and move to the Dream SMP and no one knows they're pillager origins until their family comes looking for them?? also i've been binging ur stuff, i love ur blog, this is my first time asking :)

I really really love this idea, I’m such a sucker for things like this hahahaha.

But yeah. So you’re born and raised in a Pillager tower, your mother was a human that your father fell in love with once he saw her being cruel to villagers. Growing up you were always taken on the raids when your parents would go on and you would watch as Villagers were slaughtered left and right with no mercy. It always made you feel sick to your stomach while many others were having the time of their lives. When the raid was over and won, you would go back to the tower and people would marvel in their victories, and you would pretend you were also excited, but those nights were always plagued with nightmares of the villagers’ screams and fire that destroyed the towns. As you grew up, you were able to make your own decisions. So you went on less raids, still going on some to please your parents, but the guilt grew more and more with each town destroyed. So when you finally turned 18, you decided to leave for good. You packed up everything that you could carry in your inventory and wrote a small note to your parents explaining that you had to leave, you couldn’t raid and pillage any longer. You left the note on your mother’s nightstand, pressing a small kiss to both of their foreheads before leaving the only place you’ve ever called home. 

You wander for the whole night, the mobs leaving you alone (after all, like kind recognizes like) and then for half the day once the sun comes up before you stumble into the SMP. From far off in the distance you can see multiple beacons of light coming from inside a really really big stone building. So like a moth, you’re drawn to the light and wander inside this castle. You stumble onto a wooden plank path that seems to go everywhere are the new town you have found. As you’re walking through the castle just looking around, you aren’t paying attention and you stumble, literally stumble, into someone. You catch yourself before you fall and you look to who you just ran into. You see a man with a green hoodie, a white smiley face mask with blonde tufts of hair poking out of the top. “Woah there… Who are you, I’ve never seen you before” he questions, his tone kind of harsh. You don’t blame him though, a complete stranger wandering into this new place uninvited, you’re honestly surprised you didn’t get an axe to the head. “Hi. Sorry, I’m Y/N. I’ve just… I’ve just left home and I saw this place. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll leave now!” You rush out, attempting to turn around and run out of the castle, but a hand catches your wrist. “Hey wait a minute,” he commands softly, turning you back around. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I was just surprised… You said you just left home?” You give the man a shy nod, “Yeah, my people were… doing some things I didn’t approve of and so I left as soon as I was able to… I can leave now if you want” The man doesn’t let go of your wrist, “You said you just left home?” You nod in confirmation, “Well, if you want, you could live here. Well not here in the castle, but here in the SMP. I’m Dream and this is my SMP. There are a lot of people here that are actually very nice. You can build your house in the SMP and live here. But if you want to keep wandering, that’s okay too” the man called Dream offers. You think about it for a moment, “Do you think you could show me around before I make my decision?” Dream gives you a quick nod before letting go of your wrist, “Of course. Do you want to go now?” “Sure!” So Dream shows you around the SMP and introduces you to a few new people who all give you waves and friendly smiles and welcome you to the new land. All throughout the tour, Dream subtly asks you about where you're from, but you brush off his questions and for once in his life he doesn’t push it. “So what do you think? You want to stay here?” You give a quick look around and think about everyone you met, “Yeah, I would thank you!” 

And so you stay. You build your house, something with light wood that doesn’t resemble a tower at all. You also make friends with everyone else on the SMP. Somehow you reveal that you’re really good at combat with an axe and a crossbow, probably while sparring with someone, maybe Tommy because we all know he would definitely challenge a new person to duel him and then call you a coward so you would duel him and win and claim you cheated, but it makes everyone stare at you in wonder for a little bit and become just a little more afraid of you. You never tell anyone where you’re from or that you’re part pillager and that your family is made up of pillagers. You don’t think it’s important. That’s in your past and the SMP is your family now so now your family is made up of even more hybrids and more diverse people. Your past remains in your past… Until it comes knocking at your front door… 

You wake one morning to a pounding on your front door. You of course are very confused because you weren’t expecting anyone. But you get out of bed and answer the door and you find  a panicked Tommy and Tubbo standing there. “Boys, what can I-” “There are a bunch of pillagers here. They’re asking about you. They’re threatening to burn everything down if we don’t bring you.” Tubbo rambles. “We won’t let them take you and we were told to keep you here, but we just thought we should let you know.” Tommy chimes in. Your blood runs cold. Why? Why is this happening? You don’t answer the boys and you ignore their ‘keep you here bs’ before you reach over and grab your axe and crossbow and run out of the house. Tubbo and Tommy yell after you, share a look before, and run after you. You run up and find a few people, Dream, Techno, Wilbur, Philza, Sapnap, Punz, (Ya know, the best fighters… foreshadowing lol) and standing opposite of them your parents with a few other pillagers behind them. The sound of your footsteps caused all heads to snap to you. Everyone from the SMP seemed shocked to see you and stared past you and glared at the two boys. “You were supposed to keep them home” Dream hisses to the children. “They took off before we could stop them” Tubbo pants, trying to catch his breath. “Y/N go home” Techno demands, but you don’t listen. All of your attention is focused on those you used to call your family. “What are you doing?” You ask exasperated. Your father smirks at you, “Oh my dear child we’re here to bring you home of course.” And you can feel all eyes snap to you. A wave of disappointment flooded you, they all knew now. “They know” you’d think to yourself, “They know what a horrible person you are and what terrible past you come from.” You take a deep breath before speaking again, “I’m not coming home. This is my home now. Go away, leave us alone.” Laughter bubbles from the group in front of you, “Oh silly silly child. You are not home, home is back at the tower. Come now.” Your mother says, beckoning you forward. “No. I’m not going.” The smirks and smiles turn into angry stares, “No? Oh, I see how it is” your mother speaks up. “Too bad you are coming with us.” Your father barks before lunging forward for you and attempts to grab you. Before you can even react, you’re being pulled back and you’re now being protected. The two most powerful people on the server, Dream and Techno, have formed a wall in front of you with their weapons pointed at the pillagars. “Now,” Techno begins, his monotone voice two octaves deeper and threatening, “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.” Your father lunges forward once more, throwing his fist out, trying to punch Techno in the face. Techno simply caught your father’s wrist and smirked, “Alright, hard way it is” 

A full on brawl begins. 

Techno quickly takes your father while Dream takes your mother. Everyone else charges and begins fighting the rest of them. Fists are flying before arrows join the ranks in that as well. You begin fighting someone you barely recognize. Your whole energy and focus is on winning because you know if you lose it’s back to raiding and pillaging villages and you really don’t want to. You manage to down the person you’re fighting and you turn and see that all the other pillagers are either also downed or being fought by one of your friends. Your eyes catch Techno and Dream who were still fighting your father and mother respectively. You’re just about to approach when Techno gets your father in a chokehold and manages to completely debilitate him. “Call them off” Techno demands. Your father doesn’t say anything at first, his fingers desperately clawing at the arm around his throat. Techno squeezes tighter, “Did I hesitate? I said call them off” Finally your father comes to his senses, “Retreat!” He gasps out. Immediately all of the pillagers stop their fight and run back to where they were first gathered up. Techno lets go of your father and gives him a hard shove in the direction. Your father moves to stand next to your mother and all eyes fall on you again. “Leave. And never come back, or I won’t hesitate to let them kill you” your speak, your voice stone cold. You can tell your mother wants to protest, but your father catches her wrist and shakes his head no. Without another word, your father turns around and walks through the crowd and toward the direction of their tower. Confused and a little irritated all other pillagers turn too and follow your father back to where they came from. 

You and the rest stand there and watch them retreat until they are out of sight. And once again all eyes fall on you. You can’t help but look to the ground as tears form in your eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know they would come for me… I understand if you want me to leave forever… Now that you know what I truly am… A monster” you spit out the words as if their poison. It is quiet for a moment and you figure that they’re all silently agreeing. You’re about to speak again when a pair of arms wrap tightly around you, and then another, and another, and another, until you’re pretty sure everyone there, even Techno, is in the group hug. The tears that had welled up in your eyes were now freely falling down your cheeks. “Y/N,” Dream begins, “We never want you to leave. Why would you think that?” A pathetic sob escapes your lips, “Because I’m part pillager because I raided and destroyed villages. I’m a monster, Dream. I don’t deserve you guys.” Everyone seems about to jump in, but through blurry eyes you see Philza give them all a look. All of the arms let you go, except for one pair that holds you even tighter, “Y/N, you’re not a monster. What you did today and what you have done in the past proves it. Today you refused to go with them, you ran away from them, you didn’t want to be a part of their lifestyle. You’re not a monster hun, you never were and you never will be” Philza comforts. His words hit your heart. You’re not a monster, no one thinks you’re a monster. More sobs escape your lips, this time they’re sobs of relief. They don’t want you to leave. You’re safe here. Philza lets you cry in his arms, he holds you for as long as you need. After a few moments you compose yourself and slowly pull out of the blonde man’s arms. “Sorry about that” you apologize, clearing your throat. “Didn’t mean to lose my cool there” Everyone around you laughs. “It’s okay Y/N. You’ve just had a big emotional thing happen, and you were pulled right of bed to experience it. It’s okay that you’re a little emotional.” Wilbur comforts, taking a step forward and resting a warm hand on your back. You completely pull away from Phil and give the tall boy a quick hug. “Hey are we doing individual hugs, because I want a hug too!” Sapnap chimes, marching forward and flinging his arms open. You can’t help but giggle and pull away from Wilbur, “We can do individual hugs if you want too” You claim, falling into his open arms. He lets out a triumphant lap and swings you around in joy. “Alright hog, let them go we want hugs too” Sapnap, still holding on to you, looks over his shoulder before picking you up and running away with you. “Hey selfish! Get back here!” And soon everyone is chasing you and Sapnap around demanding hugs. This wasn’t how you planned to tell everyone about your past, you’re not sure if you ever were going to, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.